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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433433">So should I wear a wedding dress to our first date?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_shall_wear_midnight/pseuds/i_shall_wear_midnight'>i_shall_wear_midnight</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostParkMih/pseuds/LostParkMih'>LostParkMih</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Marriage, Day 3: Accidental Marriage, Dorks in Love, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fleurmione Week 2020, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Magic Ritual, Some Romantic Tropes Because Whatever They're Fun, Soulmates, Useless Lesbians, Veela Mates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:09:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_shall_wear_midnight/pseuds/i_shall_wear_midnight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostParkMih/pseuds/LostParkMih</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Fleur go explore an ancient ruin...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fleurmione Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello guys! I want to thank everyone who gave this story a chance. It is part of the Fluermione week, but life and prograstination got in the way, so it follows a late publication. I am very happy to say that I had an incredible partner in this project (the idea was hers after all). As always thank you for Fran and Something, for the immense patience and affection with me! And my business partner, you know that I idolize you! ~Mih </p><p>Thanks to Mih for putting up with my eccentricities and indulging my idea for a prompt that sort of evolved into a monster. Also, I apologize for exposing you to Bulgarian bagpipe music. Also, also, I apologize for having exposed you to Bulgarian bagpipe music at 0614 in the morning. - dinobats</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione sat in a plush office chair, reviewing her mail in her personal library. Never had she been more pleased to take up such a mundane task after her hellish workweek.</p><p>She had nothing on her agenda more pressing than sorting bills and throwing out junk mail for at least the next 48 hours, and she was looking forward to it. All right, more accurately, she was looking forward to writing back to Fleur, made all the more evident as she flung aside a Ministry envelope to tear open the one from her friend.</p><p>A strong friendship had flourished between them, despite the two witches juggling busy post-war careers. After the immediate chaos that still seemed to persist even after Voldemort was vanquished, (funerals mostly, and retrieving her parents), she ended up talking to Fleur more about what had happened at Malfoy Manor, and thanking her formally for healing her. Fleur helped her find a licensed physician whom Hermione saw for her PTSD, someone she fortunately had not wished to strangle for being patronizing, or slap for being oblivious and impersonal. It was difficult to find a good person to help with a mental issue, especially since she was famous, and the media could easily slap an “unstable and damaged” label on her. It was somewhat odd that it was the first thing they bonded over, but she was surprisingly relaxed about it. Like Fleur alone had been preternaturally equipped to help her deal with all of it, not just the physical wounds, but the ones that lingered afterward.</p><p>They wrote to each other all through the rest of her 7<sup>th</sup> year, and currently they met for coffee, tea, lunch, whatever could be squeezed into schedules that required a lot of travel. It <em>was</em> nice however, to use work as an excuse to stay over at each other’s residence when a given project was nearby.</p><p>She saw Harry fairly often as well, when he wasn’t out on Auror duty, exercising his savior complex, and Ginny too, when she wasn’t playing quidditch. She put up with Ron if a large gathering called for it. She wished him well and hoped he was a far less mediocre Auror than he’d been a student and friend, but from a significant distance. Luna was also present in her life and a good friend, but Fleur by far elicited the most excitement, whenever they were able to make time for each other. </p><p>Fleur's life, meanwhile, had gone on reasonably calm after the war. She and Bill decided to end their relationship before anyone really got hurt. Part of her knew that it was because she wanted to find her mate and he was not that person, but she was honestly not in any hurry.</p><p>Gabby had recently met hers, someone that Fleur had not yet had the pleasure of meeting, since her younger sister had been reasonably secretive about the woman's identity. But Fleur understood, Apolline - their mother - could be extremely offhand about inappropriate conversations in inappropriate places. Their mother had few limits when it came to her daughters, which generally resulted in two extremely embarrassed young veela. Despite her sister's success in finding great love, this was not something that Fleur actively sought. She had her job and her friends, and no desire to compromise that, at least for now.</p><p>She loved her job, she liked the thrill of uncovering old coffers and breaking complex curses. Interestingly, she and Bill, even after the breakup, were still great partners in the field. Bill had brute strength while Fleur had the grace of a dancer, with fluid and adaptable magic. The two formed one of the most exceptional teams Gringotts employed for being fearless and daring in their assignments.</p><p>Fleur avoided the Weasleys’ home, not only because of Molly's perpetual look of displeasure with her, but also because even with so many years passed, Ron remained susceptible to her thrall, and it was completely uncomfortable. Everyone who lived with Veela in the long run became immune, but Ron continued on with silly speeches and dreamy looks, so Fleur always dodged gatherings with him and Molly.</p><p>Hermione was still a great surprise for Fleur, a now-woman, who was smart, witty, and fun to be around. Probably one of her favorite people to talk to about the shenanigans of her work, since Hermione not only liked the stories, but she helped the blonde unravel the mysteries of the enchantments and spells she faced daily. Hermione presented a new take on an old line of work, and even if the Gryffindor denied it, she would probably be exceptional at unraveling the mysteries of Gringotts' treasuries.</p><p>But Hermione was a scholar, and as an old soul, she tended to like old things. When the brunette migrated to magical archaeology, it was not really a shock, being an expert in ancient runes and now fluent in several languages such as French - courtesy of Fleur, and Bulgarian - courtesy of Viktor Krum, as Hermione had a propensity for feverishly absorbing new knowledge.</p><p>Both Fleur and Hermione had an affinity for the mysteries of the ancient world, one of the things that most connected them in the many letters they exchanged. They told each other stories, and gradually became extremely close. An international Floo connection was established between their homes in Britain and France that alleviated some of the distance. All the same, Fleur felt that their schedules prevented them from seeing each other more often than they would like, certain she and Hermione were on the same page in that regard, but they simply had to make do. </p><p>Henceforth, it was always a balm after a busy day whenever Hermione received letters from Fleur. The messages, even though simple and short (which they normally weren't) always caused Hermione's heart to warm and a smile to appear on the brunette's lips.</p><p>At present, she set a letter back on her desk as she contemplated its contents. It was nice that Gabrielle had apparently found her mate, though Hermione wasn’t entirely familiar with what that meant for a Veela. She presumed Fleur could elaborate the next time they saw each other in person, barring any particular details she shouldn’t be privy to as a non-Veela, of course. Apolline was probably beside herself, and Hermione hoped she wasn’t smothering the younger Veela too much. The sisters’ mother seemed to possess a disconcerting ability to both read and intimidate people exceptionally well, frequently at the same time. Hermione began to wonder what Fleur thought of the matter beyond her reporting it to Hermione. She highly doubted that the older sister was jealous of her sibling, and pondered what Fleur thought of herself being in the same situation. She didn’t appear to be in a hurry to find her match, since most of her time was spent working, and when she wasn’t doing that, she was more often than not with Hermione.</p><p>The Gryffindor realized that she had somewhat inadvertently placed herself in a perpetual on-call status with her close friend, almost always on standby for a Fleur related issue or outing.  She knew why that <em>was, </em>of course, just not quite how easily it had seemed to manifest into reality. Fleur hadn’t seemed especially preoccupied with the need to date; and Hermione supposed she was simply preoccupied with Fleur.  She hadn’t been able to convince herself to bring up the topic with the blonde, either dating in general or herself finally formally asking Fleur out. Sometimes her friend was excruciatingly difficult to read, and she wished she could borrow Apolline’s intuition when it came to her daughter. </p><p>With Gabrielle now finding her partner, perhaps Hermione could slip it into conversation, especially if she could mask her inquiries with whatever knowledge she was allowed to glean about Veela-mates. She could be sneaky. Probably. Probably maybe? Hermione didn’t really think she was exceedingly obvious with her feelings, but then again, Ginny seemed certain that the brunette fluctuated from comically unsubtle to stubbornly analytical when it came to her attraction to women, or determining if they were attracted to <em>her</em>. </p><p>She mentally stuck her tongue out at an imaginary Ginny, pulling some parchment out of a desk drawer for a reply to Fleur. A tap on her window interrupted, and she rose from her chair to receive a new missive from a large owl. She gave it a treat, and left it to decide when it was ready to depart by leaving the window ajar near the owl-mail perch. She noted with curiosity that the handwriting was Viktor’s, and promptly detached the wax seal.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dear Hermione,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I hope this letter finds you well. I know this is another message from me before you’ve had a chance to respond, but the Bulgarian ministry has asked me to find a consultant. I’ve been informed of some strange, magical occurrences happening within the Rhodope mountain range, and it’s quite possible runes and wards are involved. Some muggles have noticed various eruptions of magical activity, since the area is laden with many hiking tour groups and the like that pass through the gorges and valleys. We’ve cordoned off a fairly large area with an illusion charm since we’ve yet to determine the scope of the problem.  We are sort of creating a map as we go, so if you are able to look into this, I can Floo to your flat to pick you up, where we can then Floo once again to the apparition point the Ministry has established. There are a few additional locations I need to show you beyond the site of activity, so we may be expending a fair bit of magic while you get a sense of the environment.  I understand if this is too last minute for you to consider, but I did tell the Ministry I’d ask the best witch I know.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Yours,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Viktor</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Well, </em>thought Hermione, <em>so much for a truly relaxing weekend</em>. She put down the second most important letter on her desk next to the first.</p><p>All right, rationally she knew it <em>wasn’t</em>, Fleur certainly didn’t need constant supervision because of unstable magic, nor was she a danger to unguarded muggles. It was just the inevitable stomach-flip that arrived with anything linked to Fleur, which was plainly still in effect here, regardless of the multitude of letters she received quite regularly. Alas, this situation in Bulgaria seemed too intriguing to let pass, and she did not want to deny a friend help if she was able, in spite of the glee she’d felt at the prospect of asking for some of Fleur’s free time this weekend. She scripted a short reply to Viktor and attached it to his owl, which was conveniently still lingering in her office. She patted it gently before sending it on its way. Viktor was still a full-time quidditch player, but had taken breaks in between sports seasons to obtain a Mastery in Transfiguration, and now was called on occasionally to assist his Ministry, often in international concerns. This was obviously one of those times.</p><p>Hermione also wrote a brief message to Fleur informing her of her new and sudden assignment, before making a list of things to pack. She’d have to do a bit of geographical research, muster some supplies for camping and the like, as well as squeeze in some rest. For this night however, she was looking forward to throwing on some pajamas, diving into bed, and stealing as many hours of sleep as she could. </p><p> </p><p>*******************</p><p>Hermione was positive she’d already hit the criteria for having a “long day” on her first day. The fact that she’d anticipated this to some degree mitigated a big drop in her mood at least. Once Viktor had stepped out of her fireplace, decked out in hiking gear, he’d insisted they pause a moment for a good breakfast while holding up a bag of treats, so Hermione threw together any extras from her own fridge. She later agreed that it had been better than the meager slice of toast and small cup of tea she’d prepared initially. Hours upon hours later, she was glad she had been properly fed and caffeinated.</p><p>At the time, Viktor apologized for the rush of officials and bits of paperwork he’d need to throw at her, promising he arranged their agenda so they could blaze through the bureaucracy as quickly as possible. After that, they’d grabbed lunch on the run, and had been hiking at a casual pace for some time on obvious paths ground smooth by countless humans. He’d given her a map marked with both magic and ink, logging their journey thus far, and marking places appropriate for apparition. </p><p>The quidditch player began regaling her with various location tidbits as they continued hiking their way to the site. He was certain that Hermione had done her research, but he figured he might as well somewhat perform as the guide he had been designated.  </p><p>“They are the seventh tallest mountain range in Bulgaria, and extend into Greece, which amount to about ten percent of the ranges. The mountains consist of a complex, complicated network of separated ridges and deep gorges, covered by green meadows and  large coniferous woods. The motif of the region is a flower, the Rhodopean Silivryak,”</p><p>“Haberlea Rhodopensis,” Hermione chimed in, making Viktor chuckle good-naturedly.</p><p>“And otherwise known as the Orpheus flower,” he continued without missing a beat. “There is usually skiing in the winter at the resort around Mt. Orpheus, but I think mountain biking and hiking are the most popular activities here. The trails network is vast, but not all are maintained equally,” he added as a warning. “Though I suspect you will probably be too engrossed in your work to venture too far at the moment.”</p><p> “I’ll be sure to plan a trip back to properly explore,” Hermione replied. “It’s really beautiful out here,” she remarked, gesturing to the green slopes around them. She reckoned these must have been akin to some of the hills Julie Andrews had been singing so ardently about (yes, Hermione loved musicals, and yes, Fleur indulged her).</p><p>After about another twenty minutes of walking, Viktor steered them into a valley. The terrain had become more varied, with smatterings of small and large rocks, fallen logs, short bushes, and no clear-cut paths to traverse for some time.  </p><p>“I’m guessing there have been magical beacons that you’ve been following this whole time?” Hermione asked. Their journey had been too complicated for someone to simply memorize in such a short amount of time, given the recentness of the magical flare-ups. </p><p>“Oh yes,” Viktor replied. “I’m certainly not <em>that</em> an experienced tracker as of yet. Thank you for reminding me actually. May I see your wand for a moment?” Hermione handed it over, and Viktor tapped his own against it with a short incantation recited under his breath. He handed it back to Hermione and said, “My apologies, I should’ve done that earlier. Your wand is now attuned to them, and you can cast a reveal spell to spot them. Another thing also marked on the map I gave you.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>About thirty meters below the line they were on, he said “This is where we’ve placed an illusion around the suspected area, so muggles shouldn’t spot us poking about, as an extra precaution. Though we’re definitely way off trail as it is.  Unfortunately, we don’t really have any idea regarding the dimensions of the space causing the problems, we’ve placed protection enchantments with our best estimates. No one has noticed any pattern yet with the instances of magic. Now that you’re here, any other ministry officials will focus on keeping muggles out and ameliorating any collateral damage caused by stray magic.” That was another bit of intel Hermione hadn’t had a chance to study yet within the info dump she’d already been trying to stay on top of today. </p><p> Viktor tore open a space in the illusion in front of them, essentially drawing out the shape of a door with his wand. They stepped through, and found themselves looking upon some ruins. Hermione grew excited by the sight, and felt her energy build. </p><p>"I do hope you’ve retained all I’ve taught you about our language. Since I’ve been telling you that a lot of what we know of this place has been marked on there, you’re going to be referring to it a lot," He said playfully, alluding to their past lessons when he had taught Hermione to decipher some maps in Bulgarian. She rolled her eyes and said "Oh, come off it, you prat. You know well that I have," He chuckled and pulled her into a hug.</p><p>They broke apart when they suddenly heard the cracks of a strong thunderstorm, immediately scanning the area but seeing nothing in their vicinity, only hearing the deafening sounds ringing throughout the area. The weather was as it had been all day, pleasant and sunny.  They drew their wands at the same time, Viktor quickly casting shielding charms over the both of them. Hermione shot him a brief glance of thanks, taking several cautious steps forward. After a few seconds of tense waiting, neither of them happened to be struck with lightning.</p><p>Hermione gave a half shrug, and strode ahead towards a neat array of marked tree trunks. The sound of thunder continued to resonate periodically, but the witch and wizard did not jump. Viktor searched their surroundings once more, while Hermione peered at the runes carved into the wood, “These are avoidance wards, each increasing in degree of intensity, but they’ve all been disabled.” She cast a diagnostic spell. “Removed well before whatever is going on here was detected by your ministry, I cannot pinpoint when for certain. But <em>quite</em> a long time ago, I can say. ...Hmm, how interesting,” she mused aloud.</p><p>Viktor moved to stand next to her and asked, “What’s interesting?” still with part of his attention on alert for any other surprises.</p><p>“Well, all the trees are perfectly sized, their dimensions are the same, and they’re planted in the ground symmetrically. As a sort of ‘GO AWAY’ sign, it’s very obvious. Whoever deactivated the wards certainly barged right in here, and as you said, we’re pretty far from the main muggle roads, so whatever is over here has a lot of natural cover from the density of the trees. Let’s see if we can find the entrance or door.” </p><p>After Hermione had shared her observations with Viktor, they realized the sounds of the thunderstorm had ceased.</p><p>“Have the other events lasted for a similar amount of time?” Hermione asked.</p><p>“So far minutes or hours. There was a light show two days ago that shone and shimmered for three hours, then eventually vanished. It was fortunate that no shapes manifested, dragons or whatever else. It was rather like the aurora borealis,” he added as an afterthought.</p><p>Hermione absorbed that quietly, and they continued to walk until the space in front of them seemed to shimmer, like the surface of a bubble. She dismissed it easily, and said, “Someone threw up a hasty illusion spell, but didn’t bother reinstating the avoidance wards on their way out.”</p><p>They found themselves standing at the edge of what was probably a town square. A ruined fountain rested in the middle of the area, and the perimeter was lined with broken stone pieces of various sizes, and cracked wooden chunks. Actually, the cracked and splintered wood was littered everywhere, Hermione observed, as her gaze swept the area, and not all of the damage had been inflicted the same way. Some seemed to have broken with brute physical force, others were burned, and yet even more seemed to have rotted. She removed her travel backpack, brandished her wand once again, and began inspecting the ruins. The stone pieces lying around were of the same type that she had seen around the Bulgarian Ministry’s boundary.</p><p>It was pretty clear that some sort of magical battle had taken place here, and something strange and powerful enough lingered to cause those magical disturbances within a significant radius. As she continued to examine the wreckage, and catalogue the types of damage, Hermione noticed that a lot of the wooden pieces seemed to have once been part of ornate structures. Many planks of wood had beautiful arabesque patterns inscribed, various flowers, or were simply shaped elegantly almost as if from clay. There on the front of a door, or a broken chair, even on something as mundane as a table. The most common image by far that she had encountered seemed to be bird-like in theme and appearance. She resolved to sketch many of the patterns and designs to the best of her ability before she left.</p><p>Viktor had been conducting his own survey, and had concluded more or less the same things Hermione had. They met at the fountain and peered around once more. She picked up a piece of a statue that must have adorned the fountain, looking at a bust of what was the humanoid avian creature she’d spotted images of. It was made of wood, but after a tap of her wand, she realized it had been enchanted to withstand weather effects, especially the water it would have been placed above. The fountain looked as if it had originally been an interesting mix of wood and stone, and she wondered if it had even been painted in some parts. </p><p>Hermione circled the remains of the fountain, picking up the wooden pieces comprising the figures that would’ve been joined over the diameter, and grouping them on the ground together. A hefty portion had been pulverized so the ring was broken, but as she circled the structure, she sighted something new. There was an inscription etched at the edge of the loop, and she knelt on the ground and eagerly examined the script.</p><p>“Well holy shite” She blurted out after a moment. Viktor moved around to her side of the fountain. </p><p>“What have you found?”</p><p>“This looks like Veela! The text, I mean. That would explain the bird motif too, actually.”</p><p>“Veela writing? You’re sure?” He asked skeptically.</p><p>“Well, I’m no expert, but I’ve been able to sneak enough glimpses at the script. I’ve visited Fleur’s family in France a few times now, and I’ve been quite curious, and it’s just such a unique sound when spoken aloud. Anyway, I managed to endear myself enough to her grandmother, so that she didn’t hex me the moment I tried to ask questions about their language, and she graciously explained a few things to me. I could probably ask Fleur to come take a look at this properly. And if Veela <em>are</em> related well, her people will certainly want to know about it, especially since we’ve got the issue with the magical surges as well.”</p><p>“It couldn’t hurt to have her take a look,” Viktor responded pensively, standing up and glancing at the time. “Well, I can go ahead and deliver our preliminary report to the Ministry, so they’ll have something before evening. I’ll mention the possibility of a Veela assisting in the investigation.”</p><p>“I can set up camp for the night, and visit Fleur tomorrow. If you’re going to head back, can you owl her a quick note for me?”</p><p>“You are certain about staying here?”</p><p>“Of course, I had planned on it. I’ve bought everything I need, and I’ll cast an evasion charm in case of any stray lightning storms. But it seems like the events are very well randomized from what you tell me. Besides, it’d be good to observe the environment overnight, if I can.”</p><p>"All right. If you need me, I'm just a patronus away. You have that muggle satellite phone as well, right? Do you need help setting up your gear?”</p><p>“Yes I’ve got the phone, if I find myself needing to use it, I think I can make a call from just outside the tree wards. But I’m fine with setting up on my own, thank you. It’s been a long day, but I should be able to manage quickly, and I think I can scout some more before turning in.  One other thing however, if Fleur is able to assist, and this <em>is</em> a Veela site, it may become difficult for you to help, but we’ll see. Thanks for your help today as well, Viktor.”</p><p>“Vie ste dobre doshŭl. Take care tonight, Hermione. I will send a message to Fleur, and we will talk soon.”</p><p>“Til tomorrow, Viktor.” She bid him good night, and the man turned on his heel and started walking for the exit of the settlement, as he’d have to reach a safe spot to apparate.</p><p>Things seemed to be developing fascinatingly. Needless to say, she was also hoping Fleur would be available to collaborate. She was suddenly pleased Viktor had come to her with this opportunity, and was gratified she had put in the effort to maintain a friendship. </p><p>Ron for whatever reason was still disgruntled about this, but the brunette just ignored it. She was getting awfully tired of Ron’s unsolicited opinions. Viktor was a good friend; they often exchanged letters and anecdotes, and visited each other when possible. Viktor had taught Hermione a lot about history, Bulgaria, dark spells, and was mostly just a good, reliable friend when the war ended. They knew what it was like to have suffered torture (whether or not he tortured himself for Cedric's death), so they found mutual support in each other.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p>After making a snack and setting up her magical tent, Hermione did a sweep of the rest of the area in her vicinity. She used an enchanted quill to sketch the area as she went, adding to her list of observations. Even if Fleur were unavailable to help, nearby clan Elders would want a few members to do a comprehensive evaluation of the site. Moreover, it appeared as though there might have been disturbances in the detritus triggered by other explorers, but she’d like a second opinion before declaring as much.  </p><p>So far Hermione hadn’t found a sign pointing to the source of the bursts of magic, and any ozone would have dissipated by the time they reached the square, if the lightning had struck there. She would try to verify if the reaction radius held a pattern, or if it was entirely random, and continue the ministry’s data logging efforts. That was likely going to be her primary focus here anyway, and to determine whether any Veela-inherent magic might be connected. There was an abundance of history here to unearth, and she was excited to learn what she could even if her time here did not play out in quite the same way as her typical projects.</p><p>Her most interesting find thus far was what once had been a library. It was a square structure constructed from a natural cave. Two heavy, elaborate wooden doors greeted her, which she opened with a calculated surge of magic, and upon entering, she immediately noticed that the air inside felt crisper and sharp, for no reason she has determined yet. The space had been left shut tight and light-less, so she planted a trail of her little blue flames as she explored. The stone walls were lined with shelves, the ceiling about fifteen feet high. Inside were also four identical classrooms, each with a raised lectern that stood some 3 feet off the floor. Each room seemed to hold objects and texts related to a given magic discipline and its application, though these supplies were sparsely scattered. There were also an assortment of study cubicles attached to each room, which included a desk and chair. Additionally, there were two infirmary chambers in the library situated across from each other, presumably in case of any accidents occurring during spell casting practice.</p><p>North of the entrance to the library was a five-foot wide circular shaft, with a wooden cover depicting what Hermione now assumed to be a transformed Veela. She studied the seal; cover, whatever it was, thoroughly. She swept her wand over it, and detected two overlapping magical fields. One seemed to be emitting from the wood itself, as if it was enchanted or had been fashioned and molded with magic. There other was…. More complicated. She isolated the magical signature, and tried another analytic spell. It seemed as though there were three runes embedded within each other, but the boundaries of the spells were interwoven and were difficult to trace and separate. Moreover, there seemed to be more Veela text inscribed in the wood. She could discern bits of Bulgarian interspersed with the text, but she certainly wasn’t going to be able to translate it all completely on her own.</p><p>She stepped back for a moment, considering her options. She had planned to sleep relatively early, since she had a bit of travelling to do to get to her impromptu meeting with Fleur, and delivering her pitch to gain said blonde’s cooperation with this survey. Unraveling the layers here would likely not be so trivial. Then again, if she packed it in early, she suspected she was too invested now and would sleep fitfully, mulling over the rune trap and imagining was what was in the space beyond.</p><p>She decided to go for it. Alone, disabling the trap might result in a damaged wooden cover, but once she had a better understanding of its in-built magic, she was confident she could repair it. Hermione sat down against the back wall of the library next to the warded entrance, and focused on one of the spell filaments. She patiently traced it until she met its inscription. It turned out to be the damage released if the trap was disturbed, which was a localized electrical discharge aimed to bombard the intruder. <em>That</em> was certainly something to avoid, needless to say. The next thread led her to conclude that the trap was rigged to affect non-Veela, and the last outlined its direction and execution.</p><p>Hermione pondered what she’d observed, and decided that disabling the interwoven runes would be too difficult and time-consuming. She needed to expend the rune effects, and somehow remove the wooden cover. She resolved to rewrite some of the glyphs imbuing the runes with power, altering its target and instead causing the damage to implode into the shaft. She practiced the motions and edits off to the side with as much precision as she could muster, and turned back to her target with a deep breath. Carefully and calmly, she implemented the magic, and scrambled away as far as she could get…When a few, scant seconds later, there was a series of sharp sizzling noises followed by resounding cracks, and a final boom as the wood split and crashed down to the ground at the bottom of the opening.</p><p>Hermione crept back over to the newly opened pit, holding her lit wand aloft as she leaned over the dark abyss, which had to be well over fifty feet deep. <em>Well, shit. </em>She supposed she could secure a rope and wriggle her way down, but hoped for something simpler. First, she ran her light along the circumference of the shaft. Luckily, she spotted an object that looked like a broken valve. Hermione quickly cast reparo and turned it. Metal steps began grinding into view, spiraling down the shaft, providing an easy route down. The brunette cheered quietly to herself and descended the staircase. At the bottom, she used <em>lumos</em> to spot some nearby torches and lit them.</p><p>Hermione found herself in a rectangular room about fifty feet long. A short distance in front of her, there loomed a wall that touched the ceiling, and in a brief moment of panic, she thought she may have wound up in a dead-end trap. Angling her lit wand and peering at the sides one after the other, she realized that there were actually two corridors on either side.</p><p>She turned her attention back to the wall in front of her, and realized that there was actually a massive painting on its surface. It was clearly magic since it looked like it was transitioning between parts.</p><p>The panel began with images of avian creatures with multicolored feathers in blue, purple, gold and silver, dancing around a fire. There was a lunar eclipse in the sky, with the moon encased in red rays. The red light shone between the feathers of some of the creatures, which reminded Hermione for a moment of the mythological Harpies, but these beings were not so <em>exactly</em> similar.</p><p>One of the creatures moved to the right, gradually losing its feathers, as if that dance presented in the first part was a ritual, it gradually took on the shape of a humanoid creature of the female form, with silver hair and blue eyes.</p><p>The ensuing painting had a circle circumscribed with flower petals, a symbol of the Goddess Gora. She was an ancient goddess, now forgotten, who possessed the gifts of life, earth and growth, known for being the mother of the forest goddess Zashtita and the goddess of the unknown Neizvesten. Gora is the younger and lesser known sister of the gods Belobog and Chernobog, gods of light and dark. The forgotten goddess blessed the creatures, who then came to have the ability to shape the land to their advantage, creating farms and buildings. The image slowly transitioned to a well-structured village of these creatures.</p><p>The now humanoid creatures create their own culture, and in the next image there is the development of writing in the painting. Humans are now present, looking fearful and carrying torches towards the creatures’ village. Slowly to the left, a human girl approaches one of the beings, and between the two there evolves a special connection. In the transition to the next painting, the human creature and woman are threatened by humans who begin to develop magical abilities. </p><p>A vicious war invades the third painting, destruction and death, the blood of the creatures spilling upon the forest floor. Creatures are painted running to a temple within the village. There, it seems like some magic is being cast, and slowly the doors of the temple close.</p><p>The painting's last part is smudged with paint and blood. A circular symbol like an antique Arevakhach symbol, representing the beginning and the end at the same time - the eternity, was splattered and stained with ancient blood, and a blurred hand as if it was a body falling slowly to death, marks the finale of the painting’s tale.</p><p> </p><p>Hermione was puzzled. She contemplated the painting, the bright colors, the magical transitions, and the story behind it. It definitely left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she observed the humans, wizards and witches alike, grow aggressive with magical creatures that were only existing in their own environment, she briefly wondered if  hatred of those different was something intrinsic to a human being. She, as a Muggle-born, knew very well how the wizarding world of not so long ago treated her, that she could scarcely imagine the hate and prejudice that had been inflicted upon these creatures. It caused something to light up in Hermione's chest; she was going to unravel this mystery, find out who those people were, and keep that important piece of magical history alive.</p><p>The brunette pulled out a leather notebook from her pocket. She would later have to report on her findings, and for that she needed to write down whatever she found. She let out a little laugh as she remembered the old police films she watched with her father, intensely muscular detectives taking notes with a cigarette perched between their lips. She smiled to herself and pulled out a muggle pen. Invariably much more practical than feather quills!</p><p>As the Gryffindor didn’t have an artistic bone in her body, she described with as much detail as possible everything she had seen so far, from the wards on the trees, the illusory barrier at the entrance, the fountain, and especially the library. She mentally measured the place, almost like counting steps, which gave her a rough estimate of the size of the places she’d uncovered so far.</p><p>She then decided to retreat for now, exited the library and ventured outside, trying to identify anything and everything that hinted at what that building was. She saw worn out paintings in blue, green, and some in orange, in the (now) evening light. Clearly these people had a preference for colors. A second after the thought occurred, Hermione tripped over something lightly buried in the ground. She crouched down and pulled out what she assumed was a piece of wood. The brunette ran her hand over the object to remove some of the soil, and felt her eyes widen. It was a doll. Carved out of wood and in good condition, it was simply a bit dirty and slightly cracked due to exposure to the weather. Still quite identifiable as a wooden doll. It was a female figure, with long hair and some kind of dress, and it was likely someone's toy. Hermione smiled at that thought, then frowned slightly when she realized that only prejudice would cause the end of that painting to happen. The brunette felt acutely sorry about everything that had happened in this place, especially because all signs pointed to hatred. </p><p>Suddenly, a stream of cold air swept through her, making her shiver and leaving the strange sensation of feeling observed in some way. The Gryffindor pulled out her wand, and scanned her surroundings warily. She momentarily felt hyper-aware that she was in unfamiliar territory, and that she was at a disadvantage. Hermione resolved to be extra cautious for anything that might turn out hostile. However, as quickly as the cold current appeared, it vanished, and she felt herself slowly relaxing again with the comfortable warmth of the sun. Spring was coming, and would finally ease the cold that still lingered morning and night, so that abrupt gust of icy wind seemed rather out of place.</p><p>Regardless, Hermione continued her walk around the site. She noticed that the construction was so well done that buildings became almost difficult to date, and she would have to utilize more analytical techniques. She did however, take some samples of the surrounding stones, especially a small splinter from the library to try to find a way to date it. Her thoughts migrated to Fleur; the blonde had explained that Veela were as old as magic, and therefore this place must be as old as the Veela legends. It was a milestone for Hermione, and she knew that regardless of whether public recognition would come or not.  Fleur however, would be thrilled with this discovery, and that thought pleased her much more than the potential of any professional accolades.</p><p>The archaeologist paused her stroll to sit on a bench made of wood. She looked down at the structure for some time, and nowhere did she find anything that resembled a definite wooden joint. In fact, it seemed as though the bench had been born out of the ground just like that. This left the young witch intrigued and absolutely curious. However, determined not to interfere with the environment, she just focused on taking notes. She had many thoughts to put in order, especially regarding the paintings. They told the story of some kind of magical clan that Hermione was reasonably convinced might have been a subdivision of Veela, or a kind of magical creature from the same magical family such as the Siren or Harpies. But something told Hermione that she was in a kind of Samodiva village - who were known as the Veela's predecessors. She made sure to include everything about the forgotten Goddess.</p><p> </p><p>*************</p><p> </p><p>After composing an exhaustive account of events thus far, Hermione returned to her campsite to fix herself a sandwich and some chamomile before getting ready for bed. She set her alarm and drifted off to sleep; feeling accomplished, and dreamt of introducing Fleur to the breadth of history still waiting to be uncovered in the settlement.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p>Hermione woke slowly, prodded into wakefulness by the niggling feeling creeping down her spine that something had gone awry.  She shifted slightly, noting that her body seemed to be responding sluggishly. Had she fallen asleep on top of her blankets? She opened her eyes blearily, and took a moment to orient herself. No, she was definitely tucked in…her eyes widened as she realized her breath was steaming right in front of her, and that the temperature had dropped quite drastically.</p><p>Not enough for her to suffer hypothermia, but sufficient to induce her to cast some charms and further secure her tent. She did so on her bed and blankets, stuffed her feet into her boots and went to look outside her tent. Everywhere she could crane her neck to see had been blanketed with pristine white snow, which reflected the moonlight incandescently. She re-ignited her nearby fire pit with a security charm as a safeguard, and deftly melted away the snow intruding upon her tent with some well-placed <em>incendio</em> spells. She then summoned a chair and blanket, and decided to see if she could wait out the effect, noting the time was 0057.</p><p>           </p><p>The second time Hermione awoke, she jolted upright as if she’d been physically struck. She gathered that she had dozed off sitting by the entrance to her tent, attempting to obtain a rough estimate for the length of time the snow lasted, because now she was treated to a sort of manic light show coruscating outside her tent. Her fire pit had been extinguished, and the settlement had apparently rearranged itself to exhibit its mirror image. Beams of multicolored light gleamed like undulating waves of water mid-air, but by far the worst thing was the blaring sound of Bulgarian bagpipe music resounding through the area, absolutely booming and impossible to miss.  She squinted at her wristwatch and noted the time, 0308. She turned back to the laser show on steroids, glaring balefully, wishing she had the source of the music in sight to incinerate. Her mind lethargically supplied the components of a modified silencing charm with wards that would still alert her to danger encroaching upon her tent, while her personal folk music concert thundered on. The moment she’d mentally organized her charm despite the cacophony, and stood to begin casting, the music ceased.</p><p>“Because of course it would,” Hermione said aloud, to no one.</p><p> </p><p>*************</p><p> </p><p>After caffeinating herself extensively at breakfast with her interrupted night of sleep, Hermione trudged out of the Veela settlement proper, walking for about twenty minutes and aiming for an apparition point on her magical map. Fortunately, she managed to avoid getting lost, and it didn't take long for the picturesque little village to appear in front of her. Now with a safe place to be able to apparate, she could ask Fleur for help, and to request back up or resources from the Veela.</p><p>The archaeologist gave herself a mental pep talk in order to explain what the hell she had found in that ruined settlement, without it appearing as though the Bulgarian ministry was breaking Veela laws. She had apparated in front of Gringotts and expected to see Fleur quickly, but when she asked for the witch at reception, she was escorted to a set of shared offices. The goblin led Hermione to a table bearing the nameplate 'F. Delacour,’ and ordered Hermione to wait there until the curse breaker arrived. When the woman realized that Fleur was delayed, she pulled a shrunken book from her inner jacket pocket, an old book she was reading slowly. She resized it with a flick of her fingers, and began perusing it intently, ignoring the curious looks of people entering and exiting offices.</p><p>When Fleur returned to her station, she came upon an unusual image. Hermione Granger was comfortably seated in her chair, reading a colossal tome on ancient civilizations. Fleur tried to recall as to whether anyone had really warned her about Hermione's presence there today, and she was faced with the fact that no other employee had warned her.</p><p>Hermione was a beautiful woman, Fleur was well aware, because after all she was not blind, but beyond that she always considered the brunette's ability to get lost in her reading absolutely adorable. Hermione was frowning while concentrating, her mouth moved subtly with the words she read and her left hand gestured minutely as if she were actually reading to someone.</p><p>She moved towards her friend, but the young woman didn’t notice her. Fleur then cleared her throat, and that was when brown eyes shot up and focused on blue ones. Hermione practically leapt from the chair, and blushed when it wobbled and slid back.</p><p>"Fleur! Hi!" Hermione greeted her exuberantly, speaking with heated cheeks. <em>Good Lord Granger, tone it down.</em> She felt herself relaxing gingerly at Fleur's gentle smile.</p><p>"Hello, mon amie." Fleur leaned over and pulled the brunette in a short, but firm hug. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Fleur's eyes flashed mischievously and Hermione rolled her eyes at the playful suggestion. “Viktor sent a quick note that you might show up, but nothing else. I thought you had a job with him?”</p><p>"Yes, I do, and I need to talk to you about something important, on that job. Nothing dangerous, I promise. Nothing <em>probably</em>, anyway," She said, thinking of her adventure with the rune trap. Her standards were probably a bit skewed after that kerfuffle with Voldemort, however.  At Fleur’s concerned look, she continued "Just important, can we speak privately?"</p><p>"Of course, please follow me." Despite her initial playful mood, Fleur noted the seriousness in the brunette's eyes, and in quick steps guided Hermione into a meeting room. With a flick of her wand, Fleur locked the door and closed the curtains. "Now, what's ailing you?" The blonde's voice sounded slightly concerned, and at the same time soft.</p><p>"So..." Hermione moved to a chair and sat down, waiting for Fleur to do the same. "Viktor, on behalf of the Bulgarian Ministry, hired me to do a preliminary investigation at an ancient archaeology site that the government cordoned off a week or two ago. It’s in the Rhodope Mountains, close-ish to the border with Greece. When we arrived, as Viktor gave me space to work, I started to investigate superficially. Looking for magical traces or something that indicated some type of magical civilization. " Hermione started to speak quickly, showing nervousness the further she went. Fleur grabbed Hermione's hand, which caused the young woman to relax slightly, take a deep breath, and smile softly. "I found writing that I strongly suspect is an ancient Veela language." The last line of information fell heavily on Fleur. "I need help with this, not only to avoid confusion with your clan but also because it is an unfamiliar language, and I fear I may end up activating something that could easily be deflected if only I’m aware of the magical inscriptions." The two looked at each other in silence for a long moment. Hermione saw the gears turning in Fleur's mind, and when the blonde took a deep breath and smiled, Hermione knew her answer.</p><p>"Of course I will help you. I will just have to ask the bank for some time off, and then we’ll be ready to go. I believe that by tomorrow I should be free," Fleur responded, feeling excited. Unfortunately as of late, the work at Gringotts had been a little tedious, and going on a new adventure would be undoubtedly fascinating. "I will also notify the coven about this, to avoid international problems."</p><p>"I will let Viktor know, and he’ll be our liaison with the ministry." They got up and hugged again. "Meet me at my flat tomorrow morning, and we’ll leave from there. There’s a bit of apparition hopping we’ll have to do, though I’ve already set up a campsite." Fleur nodded, and with a short and smiling 'until later,' they said goodbye.</p><p>*******************</p><p>The next day was another early start for Hermione, even with the apparition point a manageable twenty minute walk from the site. She wasn’t fully aware of exactly how the natural magic of the place might react to Fleur's (Veela) magic, and she was partly worried about that. </p><p>At precisely seven in the morning, the spells surrounding Hermione's flat vibrated with the arrival of a visitor. Even though Fleur could use the Floo, it was very common for the young French woman to knock on the front door of the apartment. Hermione responded promptly when she heard the traditional two knocks, and opened the door to find a grinning blonde.</p><p>"You know you can easily just pop in my library, yes?"</p><p>"And appear abruptly and unannounced? Such boorishness, I’d <em>never</em>," Fleur teased, and leaned down to kiss Hermione's cheeks three times; cheeks that quickly turned scarlet with the contact. "Bonjour, Hermione."</p><p>“Bonjour, Fleur,” Hermione replied, chuckling. “Are we ready to go?" The blonde nodded, and tapped the strap of the backpack she carried. Fleur as a curse breaker was rather savvy on expeditions, and Hermione trusted her totally. Hermione led them out her door and tapped the point of her wand against it, closing and locking down the entire flat quickly. She then extended her arm to Fleur, who promptly grasped it. In mere seconds they felt the pull in their gut, the squeeze as if into a narrow tube, and apparated in the middle of the Veela village.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I am very very happy to have this very long and AMAZING second chapter! I want to thank you all for review, kudos and follow the story! Enjoy! ~Mih</p><p>Mih was super patient with me in this particular chapter as it continued to expand despite my best efforts in being more concise. But she was also not afflicted by surprise-bagpipe-music, so.  -her picky co-author</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The walk to the site was uneventful, and Fleur, who was used to traversing forests, just obediently followed Hermione. She did have to agree with the brunette’s assessment that the locale was incredibly beautiful. The other witch had mentioned that she’d like to return and properly explore the little villages and various hiking trails when not involved with work. When they eventually hit the magical perimeter, she began to survey everything with particular attention, since there was the high possibility of the place being related to ancient Veela. Fleur was excited, and when Hermione guided her to the line of trees, she was also intrigued, especially with the younger witch explaining the wards that had originally been placed there.</p><p>“So…” Hermione waited until Fleur had turned her attention back on the brunette. She gave the blonde a small smile, looking sheepish. “There’s one other complication regarding the area that I haven’t mentioned yet. I’m sorry, I should have told you right away when we were in your office, but I let the excitement of you coming along and the historical potential here distract me.” </p><p>Fleur was looking back at her neutrally. “Go on,” she prompted.</p><p>“The main reason Viktor called me here is that there have been a string of random magical occurrences. Like...when he and I arrived yesterday, we heard the sounds of a big thunderstorm, but witnessed no lightning. The weather remained the same, but the noise continued for several minutes. Then when I went to sleep last night, I experienced two others. The first was just before one in the morning, and I woke up freezing. As far as I could see, the area had been blanketed in snow. I attempted to stay awake and observe how long the effect lasted, but I ended up dozing off. And then just after three...” Hermione let out an annoyed little huff, and Fleur arched an eyebrow. </p><p>“I was jolted awake because of an ear-splitting, musical recital of Bulgarian bagpipes, nearly tumbling off of my chair. Bagpipes, some kind of colorful light waves scintillating around my tent, and what I could see of the wreckage of the village had repositioned into its mirror image. When I was ready to cast a charm, everything stopped. <em> Naturally</em>.” Fleur blinked back at her. </p><p>“Well. That’s...interesting.” Her calm expression devolved into a smirk, and she laughed. “I’m sorry, I just pictured you startling awake at all the noisy chaos. I’m glad you didn’t fall off of your chair and get hurt, mon amie,” Fleur said, her grin growing at the sight of Hermione’s pout. </p><p>“I’m so pleased you are amused at my expense. Anyway, that’s another thing we’ve got to solve.”</p><p>“Do you suspect it’s a sort of curse placed here?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Hermione gave it some thought. “But I think the likelihood is slim. What sort of curse could you create with such wide parameters concerning its effects? How much energy and power would you need to apply? Plus the range is pretty wide. One of the ministry’s concerns is muggles getting hurt. I looked over the list Viktor gave me, and so far the other events have been relatively benign. One of them was more like the aurora borealis, as opposed to last night with my LSD-type light and music show. Maybe my arrival caused something to spike. Regardless, I think your particular skill set will still be rather useful. We’ll be extra careful tonight,” Hermione explained. </p><p>“I see this diversion you’ve proposed for me will be even more thrilling than I’d anticipated,” the French woman remarked amiably. “I shall protect you from any other bagpipe invasions, chérie.” As Fleur had hoped, the adorable pout reappeared. </p><p>“They’re quite different from Scottish bagpipes, I’ll tell you that much,” Hermione grumbled. “Anyhow, let me show you the places I’ve explored here so far.” The brunette began speaking while leading them to the town square.</p><p>"My guesstimation is that the village could accommodate around 3500 people and probably a max of 5000. Viktor and I did not look around the houses, or what we assumed to have been houses, very carefully. Since a lot of information is usually in the city center, we focused there." Fleur made a slight noise to assure the Gryffindor she was listening, but her eyes continued to look around. The brunette brought them to the campsite she set up, having extended the tent to fit another bed and quarters for Fleur. She gave the blonde some time to stash her gear, and then they roamed every other area above ground currently known to Hermione. </p><p>Fleur, seeing the inscription on the fountain the brunette had originally reported to her, confirmed the brunette’s theory that they were a kind of veela script. Unfortunately, she informed her that she couldn't translate without knowing a basic form of the language, so Fleur copied several symbols that she spotted and mentally started working on something that made sense.</p><p>Fleur meandered away to walk around on her own, humming lightly to herself, a habit she acquired during her Gringotts years. The silence on the job was often so encompassing that the blonde learned to talk to herself and to sing little French songs. A moment later, she noticed a small bush, which looked incredibly vivid, its blue berries swaying slightly in the wind. Fleur grew curious about the plant that oddly seemed to be beckoning her. Close to the bush she found a strange object, and after a close inspection Fleur saw it was a kind of tablature.</p><p>It was made of stone and wood, its top piece apparently broken. It was in old Bulgarian so Fleur couldn't understand much of what was written. She would have to ask Hermione to get a book that compared ancient Bulgarian to the modern version so that she could translate.</p><p>The veela took a while to find Hermione, who was cataloging some things around the village and making several notes.</p><p>"Hermione! Hermione!" The blonde started to levitate the stone when the Gryffindor rushed over to Fleur’s location, her curls flying.</p><p>"By the gods Fleur, I thought you were in trouble," The brunette was cut off when Fleur came over and kissed her cheek. Hermone felt herself blush, and fell silent. </p><p>They were already standing quite close when someone seemed to move just so, and the two ended up in a hug that had Hermione smiling widely, hugging the blonde tightly in return. Fleur's arms wound snugly around Hermione's waist, thinking idly that they felt comfortable there, while the air around them heated slightly and they melted against each other, staying in position for a long time. When Hermione eventually snapped out of her Fleur-trance and realized they’d been standing there hugging for a while, she stepped back, blushing slightly and clearing her throat, finally noticing what Fleur brought with her.</p><p>"I need a reference for old Bulgarian, I would like to start working on that tablet, but my Bulgarian skills are a bit rusty," Fleur said, looking a little put out. </p><p>"I can go ask Viktor. I should probably report in anyway, and it shouldn't take too long," Hermione replied softly, bringing a hand to Fleur's wrist. More than ever, she wanted to lean in and kiss the blonde.</p><p>"Oh, bring Alka, she’d appreciate a bit of time to fly and well, we needed an owl.” Hermione smiled and nodded. The silver Eurasian owl was a loyal and caring creature, and the brunette had always been fond of Fleur's familiar. </p><p>The two witches moved back to the campsite for some tea and fruit, and a little while after, Hermione departed to speak with Viktor leaving Fleur to try to translate the tablet. Viktor ended up cashing in on some favors, and about an hour later, he presented a couple of books to Hermione. </p><p>With the additional resources, translating from old to modern was reasonably simple, and Fleur did not experience much difficulty. The tablet outlined the intrusion of human magic users in the village, and proclaimed that it was increasingly dangerous for members of the clan to hunt beyond marked safe places, and that they should always be accompanied. It also stated that leaving the clan's protected areas should be done only with the special permission of the leaders, or by those pairs officially appointed and sanctioned by the elders. Both Hermione and Fleur were intrigued by everything here, that village seemed to have suffered a lot in a short period of time.</p><p>******************</p><p>Some time later, Hermione returned to her notes, and Fleur had grown bored. She understood that Hermione needed to document everything while it was fresh in her memory, but the veela was now restless and curious.</p><p>"Can we <em> please </em> explore some more?" Hermione laughed at the blonde's plaintive tone and put down her notes.</p><p>"All right you big baby, can I finish this paragraph at least?" Hermione asked lightly, as if speaking to a child. Fleur snorted and nodded, which made Hermione laugh again. Fleur rolled her eyes in the manner of the brunette woman, and approached Hermione, leaning over her shoulder to see what she was doing. Fleur started reading the report and Hermione felt herself shiver with the blonde's breath against her throat. </p><p>Hermione hesitated briefly on the last sentence, her writing somewhat shaky. She finally turned her head, which made her lips brush lightly against Fleur’s cheek, and when she turned her torso as well, her lips grazed the French woman's earlobe.</p><p>"Now we can go exploring," she said lowly. Fleur's eyes widened, and she barely held in her breath. The blonde tried to command her rapidly beating heart to slow, and especially scolded herself for the reactions she was having. Fleur took a step back and felt her cheeks warm slightly.</p><p>They walked side by side for about forty minutes, while Hermione took some notes to update the map later that day. The two witches came upon nothing particularly extraordinary while they were walking between some trails among the trees around the main part of the site. Eventually however, Fleur ended up a few steps ahead, since Hermione had been ambling along a bit distracted, and bumped up against the other woman's back.</p><p>"What the hell, Fleur?" She questioned, rubbing the top of her head and grumbling, but when the blonde didn't answer, she raised her head to look at what was going on.</p><p>They had arrived in a completely new place. It was wide and open, surrounded by trees with very little grass around. It reminded Hermione very much of the magic circle of Stonehenge, for in the center, there were several stones that circled a large fire pit. </p><p>The pit was formed by enchanted round stones that prevented any flame from venturing beyond its borders. What caught Hermione's attention the most was a massive, monolithic rock that was engraved, placed a few feet behind where the bonfire was lit, which strongly implied that this was a ceremonial place of some kind. Both she and Fleur approached it cautiously and when she noticed that the blonde pulled out her wand, she drew her own as well.  Fleur performed a quick duplication spell coupled with a shrinking spell, which reduced the copy of the stone into a transportable size.</p><p>"Won't that disappear in a few hours?"</p><p>"Not for some days, I utilized a modified spell that I learned from the coven."</p><p> </p><p>******************</p><p> </p><p>After their discovery at the ceremonial center, they carefully deposited the stone slab copy in their tent. It would probably take effort on both their parts to parse the meaning from the veela artifact, so for the moment Hermione wanted to continue showing Fleur the places of interest. She led them to the library, and gave Fleur a moment to take in the large wooden doors merged with the natural cave.</p><p>Hermione eased the doors open gently but with a firm, unremitting stream of magic, and led them inside. She shut the massive doors and lit some torches. The first level was easy to illuminate and navigate, since it was just a large square.</p><p>“I transfigured some of my camping gear into lights for this building in particular. When I first entered, it was shut tight and dark,” she watched Fleur survey the room. “Feels cooler and sort of…sharp in here, doesn’t it?” Fleur tilted her head and inhaled deeply.</p><p>“Oui. There’s something in the air, so to speak. It reminds me a bit of the times I enter a Gringotts location for an assignment. But with curses, there’s usually a more distinct atmosphere. This just feels…heightened, but neither malicious nor welcoming,” She commented.</p><p>“Just help me keep track of the effect for now. So, you can see that this floor is organized fairly simply,” she said, beginning a circuit of the room while telling Fleur all that she had observed so far. “There are 4 classrooms, sized slightly differently, with study cubicles attached nearby, as well as two infirmaries situated across from each other. The other more interesting thing I discovered yesterday was this,” leading Fleur to the shaft down to the second level. Hermione explained how she had analyzed the rune trap and dealt with it to open the entrance to the area below.</p><p>“Uh, hopefully we won’t have to break any other doors or gates while we remain here,” she said a little awkwardly. “Careful, the stairs are narrow and there’s no handrail,” Hermione cautioned Fleur before lighting her wand and moving down the stairs.</p><p>The brunette took Fleur to the series of paintings, gesturing to the first panel, and allowed the French woman to examine them at her own pace. The veela was fascinated, and she was sure that if the beings depicted were not veela, they were creatures from the same magical branch, for the inscriptions were similar to veelan but still contained some differences. A few moments later, a heavy magical energy swept through them like a current of air, almost making it difficult to breathe and even to move. The two witches froze, but as fast as it had appeared, the feeling was gone. They glanced at each other knowingly. </p><p>“Well, at least it wasn’t bagpipes this time?” Fleur offered gamely. Hermione did not deign to reply. “Curiouser and curiouser,” Fleur said cheerfully, nudging the silent Hermione with an elbow, who had to smother a smile. </p><p>They continued moving around the painted history panels, and entered a large room, at the end of which was a long corridor.</p><p>“I hadn’t really gone much further than this,” Hermione told the blonde, as they quickly assessed their surroundings, attempting to spot avenues of possible danger. This room had torches spaced out evenly, so Hermione lit the closest to her. There was a strange feeling of being followed in some way, and the air around them had cooled further. When Fleur suddenly complained of being cold, Hermione approached the blonde by putting her arm over Fleur's shoulders, and cast a short warming spell, causing the air around the two to give way slightly and become comfortable again.</p><p>The room was large and rectangular, having four shelves with some books that looked like they were made of wood, tablets in good condition for their age, probably because the room was sealed, without incoming light.</p><p>There were two long tables with several chairs, but in addition to the furniture and the training ring at the back of the room, there were six paintings. Each of them portrayed two women, both always with the left arm of one hooked on the right of the other. The women in each image were looking at each other with a serene smile of happiness. Hermione noticed that on each of their left ring fingers, there was a small rune mark and a circle resembling a wedding ring. <em> Perhaps these women had been important figures to the veela of this place, and had been their leaders, </em> she mused. A somewhat odd addition in all pictures was in the back, hovering behind the posing women. There was something that looked like a fisherman’s net, glowing blue, as if it were holding something. Hermione filed the discovery away for later, and continued looking around.</p><p>The long corridor leading to another door had simple walls, smooth and well polished stone. The air in the corridor had once again gotten cooler. Fleur and Hermione walked to the end, seeing the door was closed tightly and possessed several inscriptions. It was made of stone, had no knob or handle, but instead a small wooden receptacle.</p><p>"I would hazard a guess and say that this is magically sealed," Hermione said wryly, after trying a series of simple spells to open it.</p><p>"I believe that this sentence above comprises the instructions to open the door, but I need to find a way to translate,” Fleur replied, after contemplating the text. </p><p>They passed through the corridor again, and set up a workspace on the tables provided in the room. After several hours of attempting to translate the lettering, Fleur was left with a large pile of parchment beside her, where she had written her associations of modern letters to ancient, in an effort to build a reference table. Meanwhile, Hermione began recording her day’s observations, as well as details of the room they were currently in, and updating their map.</p><p>**************** </p><p>By evening, the two witches had returned to their campsite for dinner and a brief work break. </p><p>"Hermione, is this starting to make more sense, or has my brain simply begun to melt?" Fleur caught the eye of the archeologist who had been talking to herself as she read over her notes. She finally looked over at what Fleur was doing, and saw that the French woman really had made quite a bit of progress. Starting with this complex block of text was tricky work, but by understanding the relationship between the old Bulgarian words with single veela dialect words, Fleur would be capable, in theory, to learn how to translate this dialect in English script. The good thing about the longer text was that with the higher number of words she worked with, the easier it would become for Fleur to learn to translate directly to English character by character, thus building a comprehensible text. As with the muggle Rosetta Stone, this tablet worked similarly as a translation by association reference, so in this way a comparative word-by-word could be accomplished.</p><p>Hermione started to update her map, marking the stone circle with the bonfire. She was doing her best to avoid misinterpretations as she documented her discoveries, and also understood the cultural importance this site has to the veela’s ethos. The Gryffindor hoped that she could work together with a veela coven to parse all the details. Moreover, she was aware that being involved with this historical discovery would involve inserting herself within a very closed cultural group. The only other circumstances in which she would find herself so lucky would be if she had obtained special permission from the veela or...a wedding. At the last thought, Hermione snorted a small laugh, which made Fleur look up and raise an eyebrow, but the English woman just dismissed the curious look with a shrug and a small shake of the head. The veela just nodded and turned her eyes to her own notes again.</p><p>As Fleur continued to labor over the translations herself, she felt a little confused and uneasy, because it seemed as if something was pulling her to this very task. It was odd, because the act of translating in of itself could be rather boring, even if the discovery of a new veelan dialect was motivating her. And she also had Hermione, and no one else could motivate the veela more than the young archeologist.</p><p>"Well, I'm going to call this a decree, because it seems to be worded rather like a proclamation," Fleur said to Hermione. "Okay, I’ll read this out loud and see if it makes sense. '<em>The blessing of the Goddess Gora has brought us the peace we have always sought. We have lost our feathers, our claws, and we have become the chosen figure of our goddess. The blessing was bestowed with the lilac-colored fire, purifying our souls and our magical essences. We have grown strong magically, and have received the clarity of a clear mind.’”  </em></p><p>The two paused and reviewed the characters that Fleur had translated, agreeing on what she had read so far. “‘<em>When the sun crosses with the star of the royal eagle, we dance for the Goddess. We relive the ritual where our free bodies, taken by the purest magic, come together to revere the blessing of the Goddess. The fire becomes sacred, and another cycle of the great orange sun becomes blessed</em>.’” The two looked at each other as they organized their thoughts. </p><p>"The star of the royal eagle? The Altair star?" Hermione wondered. "Does this star appear in this hemisphere, near the autumn equinox?" She continued, thinking aloud.</p><p>"We are heading towards the spring equinox. It is actually sometime soon..." Fleur told her.</p><p>"So in six months, this ritual in theory would be enacted?" Fleur nodded and they both looked at the inscription again, mentally revising what they had learned so far.</p><p>"'<em>The dance must be performed just as Gora, the Great Goddess, blessed us. Our feathers are reborn into our bodies, naked of </em> <em> cloth. </em> <em> They will be consumed by the sacred fire as on the first day. Being inspired by the sacred energy of Gora makes us want to create life, procreate and love. Many of our children are blessings from the Goddess. Mates must unite in their greatest capacity, uniting their bodies and souls once again in the oldest dance of all. On the night of the blessing, we dance, pray and love just as Gora wished. The goddess' blessing is powerful and overwhelming and incites even more strength in our souls. The goddess should not be stopped, nor can we</em>.<em>'"  </em></p><p>Fleur finished reading and smiled happily at Hermione. The two exchanged a sweet smile, and the Gryffindor felt even more motivated. It was as if she had absorbed some of Fleur's enthusiasm as her own. "Well, we are a good team," Fleur said boldly. </p><p>Fleur then turned back to her notes, she had been struggling with an unfamiliar word. Hermione had found inscriptions around the fountain in the village square, which Fleur had thought would be an easy start to her translations, but after struggling for a long time, she turned her attention to the longer text she had just read aloud. Now she finally understood how to translate this old veelan to English, and she could work around this phrase. Hermione was watching over the French woman’s shoulder, slowing seeing the English equivalent taking form.</p><p>"Samodivi The Kingdom of Gora..." Hermione frowned reading loud. "Wait, so Samodiva is a word for people who were in a village called Samodivi?" She asked aloud and puzzled, but speaking to herself.</p><p>"Apparently it was a name that evolved for veela, but we still don't know if it's due to a village, magical place or creatures. The past veela - Samodivi culture, is very well hidden, as we can see from our time here. Considering how they named themselves, I will start to refer to this veela archaic language as Samodivi." Fleur gestured in frustration at the notes in front of her.</p><p>"That said, I feel prepared to deal with the door that is sealed." The two smiled at each other, and Fleur felt a tiny impulse to hug and kiss Hermione. The veela held it in, and her smile tensed for a moment. If the brunette noticed, she said nothing. She just stood up and held out her hand to the blonde, who promptly accepted the support in getting up. </p><p> </p><p>*********** </p><p> </p><p>The two witches had retired for the night feeling rather accomplished. They decided that the next morning, they’d make an effort to open the magically sealed door, for something special had to be behind it. Earlier over dinner, they’d discussed the sort of wards and precautions they could place around the tent for security in case of any magical accidents. While it was hard to plan specifically, with Fleur’s expertise, Hermione was reasonably sure barring a meteor landing directly on top of them, they were as safe as they could get.</p><p>And as was often the case with the help of magic, their accommodations were quite comfortable. Fleur was currently in their shared bathroom while Hermione tidied up the space, cleaning up dishes and securing their stock of food. She tossed out some clothes to wear for the next day on a chair near her bed, and added another blanket to the mass on Fleur’s bed just in case. She’d be delighted to snuggle Fleur if she happened to complain of cold once again, but well. That train of thought was fortunately derailed by the woman emerging from the bathroom in her pajamas. </p><p>“So are you happy so far that you tagged along?” Hermione asked, grinning impishly. </p><p>Fleur arched an eyebrow and stated positively, “Oui, chérie, it has been most intriguing,” as if obeying an order. Hermione made a face and tossed a pillow at the blonde laughing at her, making her way to the lavatory. </p><p>“Yes well, also getting to spend time with me is a bonus,” Hermione added casually from the bathroom doorway. She made the mistake of looking back over her shoulder. Fleur was staring back at her earnestly, and said “Oui. It always is,” sincerely. </p><p>The brunette blushed immediately, tore her gaze away, and attempted to hide her face by throwing herself past the door and closing it quickly. She splashed water on her face and resolutely went through her bedtime routine. </p><p>When Hermione exited the bathroom, she blinked a few times as she discovered Fleur had removed the partition wall separating their beds. She had thought it’d give them a measure of privacy, but apparently Fleur didn’t agree. Or didn’t care? Instead, the French woman had merged their nightstands into a single unit, so their beds were closer. Said French woman was also nonchalantly sitting up in her bed, writing reminders to herself in a small notebook, as if nothing was amiss. Hermione decided not to touch the subject, and instead asked “Should we perhaps send a message to your mother about all the veela history we seem to be in the midst of? She could alert any clan elders, organize a team or whatever they want,” she trailed off, not knowing a whole lot about veela protocol in this case. Fleur sighed and considered it. </p><p>“I suppose I probably should. She does have contact with other clans in and around Europe. Actually,” Fleur paused and let out a little snort. “I’d be doing my beloved little sister a favor, I think. Maman will have something else to focus on other than pitching ideas for some wedding extravaganza.” Hermione grinned.</p><p>“I’m happy for her. I do hope we get to meet this person at some point,” the brunette remarked, while getting herself comfortably situated in her bed. </p><p>“She is....sweet,” Fleur said slowly, as if needing to taste the words in her mouth first. Hermione turned and stared back at her for a second before exclaiming, “Fleur Delacour! Did you terrify your poor sister’s mate before properly getting acquainted with her?!” Fleur looked away. </p><p>“I did no such thing,” she replied stuffily. “I happened to meet her right after I'd sent that last letter, and it was very brief, in fact.” Hermione continued to look back at the other witch, a smirk growing on her face. She decided to let Fleur off the hook and take the chance to ask about mates.</p><p>“I’m curious,” the brunette began, with an air of insouciance, as she leaned back on her pillows. “What is the veela bond with a mate like?” Hermione tried to observe Fleur from her peripheral vision. She didn’t seem ready to shut down the question, at least. </p><p>“It’s a little different for each veela pair, I’d imagine. But it’s like, well, I am <em> told </em> it’s like finding your other half. As all the poetry and love songs of the world have been glorifying for ages,” Fleur seemed a little sad as she stated that last bit, so Hermione decided to err on the side of caution and not pry. She attempted to lighten the mood by saying “Well, think of all the new material you have to tease Gabrielle now!” Luckily, Fleur laughed lightly, reaching over to turn off a lamp. “Bonne nuit, Hermione.”</p><p>“Good night, Fleur.”</p><p> </p><p>***********</p><p>The next morning, Hermione woke without a blast of adrenaline coursing through her veins that she had had in rather recent instances, for which she was grateful. She was not exempted from French cursing, however. The outburst had culminated in Hermione hearing “Nom de Dieu, putain de merde,” as she stumbled out of her blankets in a rising flood of worry searching for the French witch. </p><p>“Fleur? What’s wrong? Your wards didn’t go off, did they?” She threw aside the tent flap obstructing the view outside of the tent. The blonde was standing just outside the border of the wards, looking around herself as though she’d forgotten entirely how she came to be where she was. From her position, a multitude of greenery had flourished outward. Flowers of various types had sprouted sporadically, particularly in colorful little chains that seemed to emanate from Fleur. It was the paradigm of a perfectly flowery little meadow, all that was missing were the singing animals...and Fleur’s expression was immensely disgruntled. </p><p>"How very appropriate it is that you end up influencing the growth of plants, and call yourself a flower," Hermione remarked. Fleur scoffed irritably. </p><p>"I am being attacked! Shut up with your sass," She grumbled. She moved towards Hermione and the tent, and instantly more flowers sprung up, gleefully laying out a path across the lush, verdant grass for Fleur to follow. Hermione began to laugh harder as she gazed around, noting the steps Fleur must have taken, due to the twisting lines of cheerful flowers. </p><p>“Come back in here, ma reine des fleurs, I’ll make you breakfast,” Hermione called. </p><p> </p><p>*******</p><p> </p><p>Hermione had finished throwing something together for their morning meal, and brought over a tray to Fleur. She’d ducked out briefly to pluck a large white flower to add to the spread of food.</p><p>“A flower for my flower,” she had announced grandly, beaming at the blonde witch.</p><p>Fleur had closed her eyes in consternation, and muttered “Mon Dieu, arrête s’il-te-plaît.”</p><p>Hermione only giggled and kissed her clenched hand before Fleur could summon a fireball and incinerate their breakfast AND tent. Fleur had opened her eyes at the kiss, and when Hermione pulled away, she yelped in surprise and leapt back as Fleur removed the flower from her tray and torched it.</p><p>“What happened to the French being renowned for their sense of romance?!” she cried.</p><p>“Fire is plenty romantic,” Fleur countered. “They’re multisensory stimulators in fact, cuddling with someone by firelight for example, or the warmth and heat you can draw from it,” gesturing to the still-smoldering petals. </p><p>“I’d like to keep my eyebrows intact, thanks” Hermione said from a safe distance, looking at Fleur dubiously. She sighed. The brunette ate her share of their breakfast with a pout, and after they had finished declared, “My poor flower...that was rather mean, Delacour. You can go use the bathroom first, stinky. I will clean up your mess.” The blonde stood unrepentantly with the air of the aggrieved, and with an upturned nose, stalked to the lavatory.</p><p>At least it seemed as though they had a productive day ahead, with Fleur feeling confident about finding the means to open the magic door. The other witch had finished just as Hermione was putting away the last of their dishes. The brunette turned to walk to the bathroom, heedless of the amusement still written plainly on her face regarding the flower parade earlier that morning, and Fleur’s reaction to it. She ducked under a towel thrown at her, and closed the door chuckling to herself.</p><p>A little while later, she moved back to her part of the tent, changing out of her pajamas, and double checking and then grabbing her day pack with supplies. Fleur appeared to be waiting outside. She hastily waved her wand and made her bed, tossing aside some pillows to look for her hoodie. The weather had been relatively mild, but mornings and nights were definitely chillier. Plus they still had that unnatural cold that insisted on settling in the most interesting area of the site up till now. She heard Fleur call her name and ask her something, which she assumed was whether she’d be ready soon. Hermione walked to the entrance of the tent, dropping her day pack outside. She looked up to tell Fleur she was just going to grab a sweater just in case, and realized what the blonde was wearing. </p><p>“Hey!” she sputtered, pointing awkwardly. </p><p>“What?” Fleur asked, completely unperturbed, hands in the garment’s pockets. “It gets cold down there,” she shrugged, as though she had taken the hoodie merely as a last resort, and not through premeditated theft. </p><p>“Oh, fine!” Hermione turned back to find a replacement, and missed Fleur’s happy little giggle as she snuggled herself into the sweatshirt, enjoying both the scent and softness. </p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>They walked side by side to the library’s second level. Fleur paused to admire the painting again. It was, despite the tragedy, a beautiful story. The blonde had always been fond of art, especially magical art. She enjoyed seeing the magic react to being observed, and to move slowly as if the cadence of her movements told the story in front of them. Hermione drew her out of her reverie by taking Fleur's hand.</p><p>"Are you all right?" The veela smiled at Hermione's affectionate and concerned look.</p><p>"Yes, this one, I just... I like this kind of painting."</p><p>"Well, that lets me know what to give you for your birthday," Hermione teased, and Fleur pushed her aside laughing, and calling her silly.</p><p>The blonde worked for a long time in front of the sealed door, copying the Samodivi writing and slowly but surely laboring on the translation. Hermione, meanwhile, was examining the bits of ostraca, which rather than pottery shards, were neatly shaped pieces of wood. It occurred to her, combined with recognizing the elegance of the wood components in the village structures, that shaping wood must have been a magical specialty of the veela living here. Furthermore, the text she was currently studying was inscribed as neatly as if an ordinary pencil had been marking paper. With enough time and effort, it was likely that a knife or other tool could also carve or etch something legible on wooden tablets, but it did not strike her as especially practical. </p><p>Hermione hadn’t exactly expected to find shelves packed full of books and ledgers, but what they had found so far had been rather scant. Even the classrooms in the floor above seemed to have been emptied. She had speculated that if the settlement had been attacked repeatedly, many of the most important and sacred tomes of the veela in residence were likely either destroyed or hidden away. With a little bit of input from Fleur here and there, she was able to broadly categorize some of the documents and began composing a list. Since this level had been secured with a rather complex trap, she hoped there would be more significant material waiting for them to help build a picture of what had happened. </p><p>As she had been working on classifying the tablets, her thoughts drifted to the effect that seemed to loiter in the air of the library, and how it had intensified now that they had ventured deeper into the structure. Hermione would admit that she felt it in general around the site, but she supposed that was mostly due to the fact that veela were inherently magical creatures. The aura that magic was nearby and present had grown more potent, and now it was more than the sense she got when she was fiddling with the rune trap, or any other (even intensely) magical item. Voldemort’s horcruxes had certainly radiated an atmosphere of magic, and while that was distinctly malevolent, it also felt relatively contained within the item. This impression seemed to spread and persist as they moved about this building. She wrote down her ideas and observations, and a few minutes later, Fleur called her over to discuss some of the Bulgarian intermingled with the Samodivi script, and the two women ended up debating various words and syllables to find the most accurate phrase. Hermione was also learning how to translate a little of the Samodivi language as they went.</p><p> </p><p>*****************</p><p> </p><p>Fleur now understood how to efficiently translate, in her mind there was almost a runic code she needed to break, even if Hermione would roll her eyes at that description and absolutely detested the way Fleur called it as such. Fleur knew that the shorter and simpler the sentence, the greater the care should be taken when translating it. Concise phrases were generally the most susceptible to changes in the meaning of one word, which would then affect the whole sentence's meaning. So she stood in front of that sentence, reading and re-reading in her mind over and over again until she was certain she was expressing the right connotation.</p><p>"I got it! I finally broke the damn code! It says: Only with the unique, special coin may you enter, no silver nor gold, with the crimson pass alone," Fleur read from her notes.</p><p>"Crimson pass? What the hell would that be?" Hermione pondered, she had always had difficulty with puzzles that involved words that could have an open interpretation. Fleur frowned as something occurred to her, and when the blonde abruptly stood up, Hermione watched curiously. The other witch pulled out her wand and pointed it at her other hand, and murmured something that caused a cut to appear. When blood began dripping onto the stone floor, Hermione got up quickly and rushed over. "What the bloody hell, Fleur!" But the blonde refused to let the brunette examine her injured hand.</p><p>"It will stop bleeding soon," Fleur assured her calmly, dismissing Hermione's concern. When Fleur reached for the wooden vat, Hermone tensed and pulled out her wand, ready to defend both if necessary. The first drop fell slowly and a loud locking noise began to sound. Fleur closed her hand, which now was barely bleeding. </p><p>"Come on, then you close this for me." Hermione just nodded, knowing it would be  pointless to argue with the stubborn veela, even if it was a two-second spell.</p><p>The door moved slowly, pulled aside via some mechanism, as it seemed too heavy to swing open. When the door slid out of the way completely, Hermione entered first, brandishing her wand. The ever curious Gryffindor took in what appeared to be an old ritual room with excitement. The vestibule was approximately fifteen feet long and wide, and aside from four torches, the only structure Hermione saw was a pulpit with a book on top. A pretty mosaic was embedded into the stone above the podium, depicting two transformed Samodivi.</p><p>"Some kind of sacred book?" Fleur questioned, approaching Hermione. The brunette shrugged, not sure how to respond. The two stood on either side of the pulpit, and saw that the simple text consisted of only six sentences.</p><p>"Should we be able to translate this quickly?" Hermione asked, and Fleur just made a noise of agreement, attention already drifting to the new find. </p><p>Hermione left Fleur to study the sentences and wandered around, inspecting the rest of the room. She examined the length of the pulpit, and noticed there were parallel lines of Samodivi text flanking a divot in the stone that expanded into a circular sub-area of the ritual room. The two lines of inscriptions stemmed from the plinth, traveling along its width, until they formed a circumference in the sub-area. Oddly, it seemed as though the alcove was added after the main ritual area had been planned and put together, since the stone seemed to have been haphazardly hewn. The masonry around the circle was not uniformly smooth, and there were gashes and marks along other parts of the stone. </p><p>As Hermione attempted to investigate the nook more closely, a sudden blast shoved her back several feet, causing her to stumble and fall on her ass. “Ow, fuck!”</p><p>“Hermione!” Fleur cried, hastening over to her side, and helping her up. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Yeah, just fell hard on my arse. Ouch,” she muttered, griping a little. Fleur made a show of inspecting the affected area. “Well, everything seems to be in order…” she trailed off suggestively.</p><p>“I should think so. Thank you for your expert input, Dr. Delacour,” Hermione replied dryly, trying to avoid appearing flustered.  </p><p>“What happened? Something hit you!” Fleur asked, suddenly somber.</p><p>“Presumably another burst of random magic. There’s another small space here, connected to the plinth by a stream of writing. I moved closer to take a look, and well.” Hermione waves idly at the encircled area, sending a light burst of energy towards the niche. Nothing happens. Fleur glances at Hermione warily, on alert in case the brunette gets hurt again.</p><p>“Perhaps we should try to limit the area of effect if we’re going to fling spells around and experiment,” She raises her own wand and conjures a protective shield…but something gets skewed. For whatever reason, the space suddenly reacts to Fleur’s magic explosively. Light pulses abruptly with blinding power, and while squinting the witches can barely make out the frame of Fleur’s shield, which begins to warp like melting plastic. They stagger back as the energy compresses into a dazzling sort of arrow, which flies backwards and ricochets dangerously within the small space. <em> Yeah, REALLY would’ve liked that shield to have manifested, </em>Fleur thinks bitterly, before throwing herself towards Hermione.</p><p>A second before she made contact, the brunette was struck with the erratic magic lancing along her thigh, making her cry out in startled pain, and sending her to the stone floor once again.  It was a horizontal cut, almost five inches long, which seemed to amplify the pain. The mere attempt to move the leg sent a wave of anguish through Hermione's body. She lay on the cold ground momentarily stunned, feeling blood seep freely from the wound. The bolt bounces a few more times within the small chamber, before darting along the long corridor like a multitude of pinball machines all going off. There is a final crash before silence falls.</p><p>Fleur swears loudly and inventively as her hands fumble at Hermione, turning her and assessing the damage while quickly conjuring a clean cloth to staunch the bleeding.</p><p>“You didn’t get hit, yeah?” Hermione asks hoarsely, craning her neck and twisting a little to check Fleur for injuries.</p><p>"I am fine. Please stop wriggling, the cut is deep,” Fleur commanded through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Sorry ‘bout bleeding all over you again,” Hermione mumbles, referring to her convalescence after Bellatrix’s attacks.</p><p>“Not your fault. But I strongly suggest that a tactical retreat is in order,” Fleur states, shooting the injured witch a stern look. The wriggling resumes.</p><p>“No wait, did it stop yet? I still want to look really quick to be sure. I think there were runes in between the Samodivi writing, but I couldn’t tell for sure before I fell. The first time, that is. <em> Ow</em>,” the brunette said in a rush. </p><p>“<em>Hermione,</em>” Fleur barks out, with the slow enunciation of someone close to screaming.</p><p>“But there has to be something here dictating the magical surges! You casting spells at it certainly seemed to set it off, and you’re part veela…” She trailed off as Fleur only somewhat gently shoved her back down with one blood stained hand. Hermione seemed oblivious to it with her new rush of adrenaline. “And a veela hair wand core!” She announced triumphantly from the floor.</p><p>Fleur did not reply as she inspected the wound again, summoning Hermione’s day pack and gesturing to the other witch to pull out the first aid kit. She removed a bit of the cloth of the stubborn witch’s trousers, and cleaned the wound. Fleur then cast a mild pain relieving spell for the moment so Hermione wouldn’t lose all her faculties on the journey back, and then finally wrapped some bandages carefully around her thigh. </p><p>“Once we return to camp I want to stitch this up,” she said in a tone brooking no argument. </p><p>“All right,” Hermione agreed hurriedly. “If you won’t let me go look, can I at least use a spell to capture an image of the runes and etchings around the circle? And the ‘short- probably-a-ritual-spell-maybe’ on the top of the pulpit. It might take some time for you to copy them down, and it seems like my magic won’t trigger any feedback. But then we’d have a lead! And when we get back I promise to be the best patient!” She looked at Fleur imploringly with those big brown eyes. The blonde subsequently sighed in resignation. The sooner Hermione could be appeased, the faster they could get to camp and she could properly ascertain whether she needed Viktor to send in an army of healers.</p><p> </p><p>***************</p><p>Once Hermione was finally happy with her copies in her possession, they shambled their way through the lower level of the library, and now stood paused at those narrow steps leading up. They stared for a few moments, assessing.</p><p>“I am going to carry you up the stairs.”</p><p>“You <em> cannot </em> carry me up the stairs!”</p><p>“You cannot<em> hobble </em> up the stairs.”</p><p>***************</p><p>“I can’t believe you carried me up the stairs.”</p><p>“Tais-toi, Hermione.”</p><p>****************</p><p>True to her word, Hermione behaved herself while Fleur did a thorough examination of her wound, and like she had promised, she ordered Hermione to lay still while she meticulously enacted the magical equivalent of stitching up the gash. Afterward, she surreptitiously sent Viktor a note, taking great pains not to alarm him, but not-so-subtly suggesting he have a team on standby for any other stubborn negotiations Hermione might insist on conducting while injured.</p><p>They had surfaced from the library in the late afternoon, and this time it was Fleur who had prepared something for them to eat. She had gone through the motions of suggesting that Hermione see a proper healer, and listening with a complete lack of surprise when the notion was summarily dismissed.</p><p>“I trust you,” Hermione had said. “And you’re helping me manage the pain all right. Besides, I’ve had worse,” she added carelessly.</p><p>“Oui. I am well aware of this fact,” Fleur retorted harshly.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Hermione immediately responded, contrite. “That was thoughtless.” Fleur took a moment to center herself and breathe deeply so she wouldn’t shout.</p><p>“So perhaps you might be a bit more compliant if, God forbid, you are afflicted with another non-trivial injury?” She managed to inquire evenly.</p><p>"Yes,” Hermione replied, looking back at Fleur both sheepishly and solemn.</p><p> </p><p>***************</p><p>Some time later in the evening Hermione was propped up in her bed, a sort of lap desk configured over her legs, with the copies of the latest inscriptions. While she was thrilled with the new material to puzzle through, it did not escape her notice that Fleur watched her like a hawk. So much so that she had relocated the merged nightstand entirely, and shoved their beds together, to better be on guard for any unauthorized movement from the brunette. </p><p>The French woman had situated herself similarly with the ritual phrases on her own bed, with periodic glances in Hermione’s direction. Hermione meanwhile had busied herself with the runes and Samodivi script forming the circle in the alcove. </p><p>They had been working quietly on their own for a while when the brunette broke the silence to report what she had found. </p><p>“All right, I’ve concluded that these are more or less standard binding runes. By that I mean binding or hold runes universally applied for a variety of magical purposes; they’re not especially esoteric, though I suspect that aspect is covered by the intertwined Samodivi script. I would imagine that the power imbuing them is quite strong, however. Given the way they are linked in the chamber, and you’ll have to confirm this part regarding the Samodivi writing, whatever is conducted at the pulpit fuels the circle in the alcove. Like…wait a minute,” Hermione jerks as a sudden memory comes to her. “Those paintings, the ones with the women linked, there was a weird glowy halo behind them. I’d thought it looked like a net of some kind,” She ruminated.</p><p>“A net for containing unstable magic,” Fleur remarked, picking up the train of thought.</p><p>“Maybe that space is kind of like a tear,” Hermione continued. </p><p>“A tear into or from what?” Fleur asked. The brunette shrugged. </p><p>“Do we really understand where magic comes from? I mean, we’ve experienced the randomness of the events. Like they’re raw, unordered, magic as a swirling mass of chaos. It’s a bunch of unfocused potential. The veela, or Samodivi I guess, their magic affecting it? Restraining it?” Hermione alternated between writing ideas down and paging through her mound of notes and observations. Fleur grabbed the pages and took the chance to examine for herself the Samodivi writing between the runes. The text appeared to be complementary to the purpose of the runes Hermione had already mentioned. </p><p>She turned back to the transcript she’d written of the ritual incantation, which was rather poetic. <em> Two as one souls will become, </em> she thought. <em> Wasn’t there something we found in the square that forbid clan members from leaving the borders of the village? There were only two exceptions, something about partners. </em> She flipped through her own notes, recalling that that bulletin of sorts had been one of the first items she’d translated. The warning had mentioned “appointed and sanctioned” partners; perhaps some of the Samodivi had been paired off as a sort of security team monitoring the clan grounds, since it was clear that the village was on high alert. But what made each duo special? Perhaps this ritual had something to do with bringing two Samodivi together, connecting them in some way. She thought of Harry’s unfortunate link to Voldemort, but she didn’t think this was quite like that. And she doubted the Samodivi would start chaining its clan members together without consent…however; there <em> was </em> something similar that already existed in veela culture, which was the bond between a veela and her mate.</p><p>“Hermione,” Fleur began slowly. “We may have a way to constrict the tear. We know this ritual is connected to the area where the raw magic seems to have an outlet. I think in some ways, it was created to mirror the veela mate bond, perhaps as a means to protect those unmated Samodivi in the clan, and the territory as a whole. From what I know of the bond, there are certain enhancements the two would experience. I suppose the Samodivi wanted to utilize every advantage they had in the face of imminent danger.”</p><p>The brunette mulled it over. “We could perform the rite then? How do you reckon the elders of the clan chose from the population to undergo the ritual?”</p><p>“I’d suspect those with compatible magic? Maybe simply platonic partners willing to unite together a little closer for the safety of the village,” Fleur said.</p><p>“Hmm. I guess like a fancier version of the ‘buddy system,’” Hermione remarked.</p><p>“I think this may also be why the tear had such a reaction when I tried to cast that shield at it. It could already be attuned to veela or veela-type magic to some degree, since we don’t have all the nuances of the Samodivi script down one hundred percent, after all.” </p><p>They agreed that the performance of the rite would be the most promising move to minimize the disordered magic of the place, so that they could notify both the Bulgarian ministry and a veela coven to necessitate any political actions safely and carefully.</p><p> </p><p>********</p><p> </p><p>The next morning arrived, and Fleur and Hermione were still set on taking a chance on the ritual. They arrived again in the chamber, this time with the translation ready, and no complaints from Hermione about being carried down the stairs. Fleur was excited, and absently rubbed her hand at the wooden corner of the pulpit. With the sudden sound of pain, Hermione jerked her gaze to the blonde and saw a few blood drops falling from a Fleur’s cut finger. </p><p>“Careful there! Here, let me fix you. <em> Episkey, </em>” Hermione quickly closed the wound and Fleur just rolled her eyes.</p><p>“It was just a sharp edge,” She said, shrugging. “Come on, focus!”</p><p>"All right, okay. So we’ll say this together? You’ll read the Samodivi and myself in English? So we see if everything fits together?" Hermione reiterated, while essentially vibrating with cheerful and nervous energy. Together in Samodivi and English the two started to recite the incantation.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>In the waterfall and the earthquake the leaves will shake </em></p><p>
  <em> So that the seeds are cultivated in the winds of change </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The land will grow strong as its roots </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It will then create a new bond for those unbridled </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In tune with the universe will change this vastness </em>
</p><p><em> Two as one souls will become</em>"</p><p> </p><p>The floor began to glow with a bluish hue. The grooves bordering the pulpit and alcove glimmered, and the runes within the circle illuminated one by one as the two witches worked their way through the incantation.  Unbeknownst to the two women, outside the library, the sky grew dark. The sunlight dimmed almost as if there were a sudden eclipse. A blue-green sphere of light materialized as though summoned, hovering above the location of the library in the village. It blazed incandescently, as if it could barely contain its own energy. Moments later, some of its radiating light coalesced into a ray, shooting downward through earth and stone, until it hit the center of the pulpit in the library between Hermione and Fleur. As it struck, there was a sudden flare of light devoid of any sound, engulfing both witches, who collapsed to the ground in what felt like slow motion and fell unconscious.</p><p> </p><p>**********************</p><p> </p><p>Fleur's head was hammering. She had difficulty opening her eyes, but she persevered. “Ma déesse, putain de gueule de oxen, attends... J'ai pas bu hier sior!” [My goddess, fucking hangover, wait... I didn't drink last night!] The realization caused a frightful shiever to travel down her spine, as she stared at the ceiling. It took her a second to recall what had happened, and that was when she felt a strange warmth in her left hand. Fleur inspected her hand and noticed the mark around her ring finger. </p><p>"Merde!" </p><p>It was a rune band that, at a glance, shimmered slightly, but when Fleur focused on her finger, the shine slowly disappeared and left only a band in black ink. It wasn’t painful, and when Fleur concentrated on the runes, they heated as if responding to Fleur's mental call to them; it was a comfortable and almost welcome heat.</p><p>She then noticed that Hermione was unconscious beside her. Her frazzled mind helpfully reminded her that she and Hermione had participated in a semi-strange Samodivi ritual, and once completed, they had ended up knocked out cold. </p><p>She knelt and put her hand on Hermione's chest. There was an immediate sensation as if a lightning bolt passed through her body, and for a brief moment she felt overwhelmed by a desire to consume. But she steadied herself, and again the concern for Hermione became greater, so she focused on feeling the steady beat of her heart against her palm, as well as the rise and fall of her chest. Hermione was definitely alive and that alleviated some of Fleur's panic. She quickly assessed the brunette for injuries, and the only different trait she observed was like the one on her own left hand; a band around Hermione's ring finger. </p><p>The veela swallowed, had that been some kind of <em>wedding</em> ritual? For a long moment Fleur considered everything she knew about that place. The Samodivi worked in pairs, as often did the veela, so they must have had a union rite, and they also had a major problem with a raw magic tear in the village. But what she and Hermione had experienced was much stronger than a regular marital ceremony. </p><p>They had established that this ancestral group had found a way to unite two people that mimicked the veela mate bond, which was done in order to publicly show a partnership, but also functioned as a ritual to contain the raw magic eruptions. So this ritual capitalized on the natural capacity of veela/samodivi to bind their souls to create a magic net to keep the tear from releasing unfocused magic that could manifest in countless ways. But she and Hermione had bonded much more powerfully. How did they somehow manage to acquire the effects of a traditional veela mate bond? Fleur was positive they had enacted the ritual as specified, though it seemed relatively difficult to foul up only six sentences of the incantation. She and Hermione weren’t supposed to be bound now as intensely as they were. It seemed as though they had somehow obtained the effects of both the ritual and the normal tradition and what, doubled or augmented the effects? What the <em> hell </em> had they just done?</p><p>"What sort of <em> monster </em> headache is this?" The abrupt sound of Hermione's voice broke through Fleur's increasingly frenetic thoughts. </p><p>"Why the hell are you feeling up my breasts?" Fleur quickly snatched back her hand, and felt herself blushing strongly.</p><p>"You were unconscious! I was checking to see if you were alive, asshole!" Fleur explained in a high-pitched tone, which did nothing to hide how embarrassed she was to have been caught with a hand on Hermione's breast without permission.</p><p>"You’re the person copping a feel on others when they’re passed out, and yet I am the asshole?" Hermione teased, smiling provocatively. She raised her hand to her head, running her fingers from the back of her head to the back of her neck. "Why do I feel like my head has been clobbered hard by a baseball bat?"</p><p>"What the hell is base-ball? And why would they use bats to hit people's heads?" Fleur asked, sounding completely lost. The blonde witch figured it had to be a muggle thing, and had thought for a long time that their customs were very strange. </p><p>"It's a sport, they hit balls, not heads." Hermione corrected, and then looked at Fleur, who was staring back at her blankly. When Hermione raised an eyebrow, the veela let out a puzzled "What?" </p><p>Hermione laughed lightly at the indignant tone of the veela, and placed a hand on Fleur's shoulder, leaning into the blonde's ear. </p><p>"As sexy as you are hovering over me, the floor is cold." Fleur sputtered out a non-reply, and stood up, the two women looking at each other for a long moment until Fleur reached out to help the brunette stand up.</p><p>When Hermione was on her feet again, Fleur pulled the Gryffindor closer towards her. They faced each other again, Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat, looking from blue eyes to pink lips. She was really tempted to kiss Fleur. The brunette grasped the hand that Fleur wasn’t using to hold her by her hip. She leaned in further towards the blonde, and Fleur’s eyes widened as she panicked.</p><p>"I think we got married!" She blurted out, breaking the moment. Hermione frowned and tilted her head, looking confused. Fleur then raised their joined hands, showing Hermione's left hand to her, as well as her own, their fingers proudly showcasing the new bands.</p><p>"WHAT?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey people, good to see you here! Please, we need love, so kudo and specially review! We want to know opinions and all! ~Mih</p><p>Thanks to everyone giving this story a shot. It's getting longer and longer, whoops 0:-)  -sciencedinosaurbats/whatever Mih is calling me these days</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! I am very proud to say we did a amazing end for this story. Funny fact, was to be a one-shot lol Dino and I, we created a monster story. Also... Star! Thank you for helping me and inspire me for the scene (you know which one!).<br/>Dino is the best partner I could ever ask, I am sooo damn lucky to have her by my side! So, Thank You Dino! ~~Mih</p><p>I hadn't intended to write smut for this story, but Mih asked me to think about it. So if you happen to enjoy the section, send her thanks and love for nudging me. (do that anyway, cause she's awesome) If you DIDN'T enjoy it, please forward any complaints to her as well (Mih assumes the blame gladly ~~Mih).   - dinobats :D<br/>*runs away*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione was attempting to brainstorm in the large space of the library’s first level nervously, she tried to pace, but the most she was capable of doing was limping to a nearby chair. She was married to Fleur. <em>Was</em> she married to Fleur? <em>Married</em> married? How was that possible? It was suddenly so difficult to think straight. </p><p>...<em>Ha ha! </em>Her mind supplied helpfully. She let out an exasperated sigh, her palm on her face. The brunette’s gaze strayed once again to the runes and band around her finger. <em>It's a beautiful representation, and well, the nerd in me really likes the rune aesthetic. Also...there are a hell of a lot of far worse people to be bound to than Fleur. </em>Her mind, once again effectual as ever, threw an image of Ron at her, and she cringed. </p><p><em>Even so, no</em>... <em>I</em> <em>couldn’t be content with circumstances like this</em>. She shook her head while glancing around, desperately looking for some place to start searching for a way to resolve their situation. Hermione was many things, including a problem-solver. She sighed and felt as if something was pulling her out of the library, as she had practically shooed Fleur away to think and investigate. Truthfully, Hermione really needed to be alone to have a proper panic session.</p><p>Meanwhile, Fleur was pacing fretfully in front of the library, after Hermione all but kicked her out of the area. She felt some kind of genuine connection between herself and the Gryffindor. Something that she knew should and would exist if there had been a veela bond ceremony, not just an old ritual with a brief invocation. But was it “only” an old ritual? Shortly after her not-at-all-subtle admission that they were now married, Hermione had been shocked and disconcerted, and quickly ushered Fleur away to think. She had insisted that the French woman was too much of a distraction, and in her presence, the only thing she wished to do was kiss her. The blonde then ended up writing a lengthy missive to her mother, and after that was finally sent, Fleur had nothing to do but resume her agitated wandering. </p><p>She was talking to herself, muttering in French and unaware of what was going on around her. Fleur assumed that just like herself, Hermione was feeling consciously bombarded by feelings that were actually from the veela. Fleur felt irritated and confused, and she was absolutely sure that those chaotic feelings were from Hermione. </p><p>"Come on, let's get back to our tent, this anxiety of yours is killing me and I don't like the feeling of you staying away." The brunette had reappeared, and her cheeks were pink. Fleur thought she really was incredibly cute, and for some reason, the little voice that had been urging her to kiss the other witch was getting much louder. Hermione felt a spike of nervous anxiety coming from Fleur, and sighed. The influx of additional emotional awareness was starting to amplify the Gryffindor's own emotional stress, she lamented, moving inside their temporary home with Fleur following her closely.</p><p>Hermione felt...irritation? Well maybe with the confusion meeting the frustration she was able to only express irritation, but who could judge, right?</p><p>Her and Fleur's magical cores were a huge, stupid mess. They were getting feedback from each other in some way, and whenever Fleur was anxious, <em>she </em>became anxious and that was ridiculous, because Fleur had become consistently anxious since their discovery. Maybe, just maybe, that was why the two of them were brooding in separate places, scolding themselves. </p><p>She pulled out an old book of ancient runes that doubled as a security blanket, one full of old leather and eternally dusty paper that tickled Hermione's nose. Fleur was on the other side of the tent, with notes in her hands reading calmly. Hermione zoned out while positioned over the heavy book she was pretending to read for the next few minutes. Who she was trying to fool? She just wanted a few moments to admire Fleur without being burdened with the sudden ramifications of their new marital status, and of the ritual.</p><p>Hermione's eyes traveled over Fleur's face, tracing the delicate features, and she couldn't help but smile softly when she noticed that the French woman was making little faces as she was reading. The veela's index finger slowly rotated strands of hair, rolling and unrolling a lock. Suddenly the blue eyes lifted, as if she felt she was being watched, and brown and blue gazes met. Fleur tilted her head slightly to the side when she noticed herself being observed carefully by Hermione. The Gryffindor did not break her stare, which made the blonde bite her lower lip uneasily, not knowing exactly what was happening.</p><p>Hermione's eyes drifted down to Fleur's mouth, and she swallowed when white teeth pinched the full lip. The brunette felt a surge of excitement weave through her body. She let her eyes meander over Fleur's body, taking advantage of the fact that the blonde was half-sitting and half-lying in front of her. Fleur felt herself somewhat tense, and slightly squeezed her legs together in an attempt to harness the new sensations sweeping over her.</p><p>The French woman inhaled sharply when she noticed that Hermone's eyes were dilated, but Fleur restrained herself and instead forced a tight smile at the other witch, trying to deescalate the situation. The blonde stood up and her smile widened when she watched the brunette's little look of panic morph into hunger. For the first time, Fleur felt almost out of control, but in a different way. She felt like something was impelling her closer to the brunette, so she didn't hesitate, and in a few steps she moved herself next to Hermione. Their eyes remained connected, as if ruled by a magnetic attraction.</p><p>The veela felt her heart race, and it was like she was a teenager again, with her thrall firing up through Hermione's welcome attention. Like all those years of implementing control went down the drain in the second Hermione looked at her with those eyes full of desire. The atmosphere weighed heavily, and in a few seconds the French woman was certain everything could spiral out of control rapidly. Fleur took two abrupt steps back, blushing deeply, especially when she felt inconveniently wet with the growing tension and attraction.</p><p>"Let's, uh. What do you think, shall we make something to eat?" She offered, in a voice choked with desire, causing her to clear her throat and blush even more deeply.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>The two witches were sitting facing each other trying to understand exactly what had occurred. They had returned to their camp, racking their brains for any missed Samodivi culture clues that would shed light on what had happened. It was like an alternate reality materializing in the strangest possible way. Hermone had had flashes of desire where she imagined herself with Fleur, but she would never have presumed in all her life she would end up bound with the woman of her dreams. Linked, and for all intents and purposes, married. At that moment both were trying to remain as composed as possible, as much that had been happening was preternatural and unpredictable, things were somewhat uncomfortable. </p><p>The Gryffindor was staring at the runes and the ink band around her finger, pondering once again. She scrutinized the runes, and managed to identify at least eight. Centered on her finger were Uruz, the rune that represented courage and power. And centered on the veela's finger was the Inguz rune, representing common sense, fertility and growth. The other seven runes were present on both hands. </p><p>Ansuz - communication, truth and wisdom</p><p>Ehwaz - partnership</p><p>Gebo - gift (giving or exchange), love, generosity and marriage </p><p>Othala - goddess, property, home and plenty</p><p>Pertho - path and mystery</p><p>Raido - journey and destination</p><p>Wunjo - joy , success, peace and fellowship </p><p>Hermione suppressed the urge to scream. She loved working in her field, and she loved working with runes. But now it was as though what she loved most laughed at her; the magic found in such runes mocking her love and dedication to them instead. </p><p>Was there even a precedent for this? Of course there wasn’t. The veela, Samodivi that is, knew what they were doing when they performed the ritual, and when they created it, for that matter. They seemed to have wielded, so to speak, the veela bond precisely as they meant to. And so now the two witches’ situation seemed to be unique twice over. </p><p>When Fleur sighed audibly, Hermione's eyes rose from her own hands to look at the French woman.</p><p>"Assez, c'est déjà ridicule." Fleur got up and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "We will deal with anything that happens, we're in this together." <em>Quite literally</em>, Fleur thought to herself. Hermione relaxed, she rested her head on Fleur's shoulder and her nose settled against the veela's neck. </p><p>"This is all distressing. We did this ritual with the intention of restraining these magic outbreaks, but now we are..." Hermione hesitated and pressed herself further against Fleur. The veela understood, naturally. She knew exactly how Hermione was feeling, and how alarming it was. Fleur's first reaction was to run back to the clan, ask for help or some kind of guidance, but then she looked at Hermione. Overwhelmed and frightened, watching the French woman with wide brown eyes moistened with tears. So Fleur surrendered to her instincts and held her close, simply wanting to comfort and hug the brunette, just like she was doing at the time.</p><p>"I know that this is not exactly ideal, but we will take it one step at a time," Fleur reassured her. A sudden thought prickled her mind. </p><p>"Oh! Merde!" She groaned in dismay, and Hermione pulled herself away from Fleur's neck and tilted her head. "Well. Maman has another wedding to brag about…”</p><p>"Oh my God! I have a mother-in-law!" Hermione yelled with abrupt realization, and hid her face against Fleur’s neck once more.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p>They decided to return to the library, and the first thing they had noticed was that the ambient temperature seemed to have stabilized. Hermione went directly to the ritual area to try to ascertain more about what could have gone wrong. She was determined, especially now with Fleur's encouragement. The blonde meanwhile, started by looking through the wooden tablets Hermione had categorized previously, before their attention had been seized by the problem of the magic tear. One of the first she had ended up selecting was a sort of diary:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Cycle 498 After the blessing of the Great Goddess Gora: The new ritual should be performed as soon as possible, in the day the serpent stars line up with Slŭntse. Our future leaders Åse and Revna are finally ready to receive the great blessing. The life span of Yrsa and Ulfhild is rapidly decreasing, and as we know, when one will decay the other will follow, which will cause the magic river to swell out of control again. Åse and Revna have been bound for almost 5 years, functioning as a single indomitable unit. Their bodies and minds are ready for the magic channeling necessary to ascend as our new leaders. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Fleur frowned introspectively and turned the tablet over, looking for any other writing on the back, but there was nothing. She was aware that the “Serpent stars” were a part of what was now called the Ophiuchus constellation, and that they only crossed with the Slŭntse, which was how the Samodivi referred to the sun, during the spring equinox. She stood and started to rummage through the rest of the tablets, looking for another diary or journal entry. She lucked out, and found another which stated:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Cycle 202 After the blessing of the Great Goddess Gora: It took two cycles of the Slŭntse for us to be capable of creating a new bond. The wild magic was running rampant, but fortunately causing minimal destruction and mostly amusing the children with its flowers, snow and lights. Tove found in Bodil her soulmate, which allowed the two apprentices to finally assume the divine bond. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The ritual was performed at the right time, and our blessing is strong. Tove and Bodil began to finish each other's sentences, and have managed to exchange their feelings through the magic river. They have recently started new training in order to minimize the new sensory effects.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Fleur was wide-eyed by the time she finished her translation. She left the tablets on the table she was using, and then headed quickly for Hermione. The younger witch was staring at the blood stain that her wound had left on the grooves of the stone floor. Fleur watched her flick her wand and all the blood, now dry, vanished.</p><p>"Hermione?" The veela felt apprehensive and frightened, which intensified the closer she got to the archeologist. She put her hand on the brunette's shoulder, causing Hermione to jump and point her wand at Fleur instinctively.</p><p>"Oh! I'm sorry!" She said awkwardly. Then a second later: “We have no way of breaking the bond," Hermione revealed bluntly. It was Fleur’s turn to be taken by surprise, as she did not seek to break the bond but to understand it.</p><p>"I haven’t found anything new here. When I first studied these runes, I could recognize that they functioned as a sort of locking mechanism, where the disordered magic was confined, as if it were a key and lock. Runes are the lock and the ritual was the key...that is then metaphorically thrown away. When we performed the rite and bound ourselves together, it ended up closing that lock and making our link permanent. I can’t see any way to break it."</p><p>"Do you <em>want</em> to break it?" Fleur interrupted loudly.</p><p>"Well, yes! Because you're stuck with me!" Hermione exclaimed in embarrassment, and just after her words rang out, she felt Fleur moving away from her. A lacerating pain seemed to shoot through her chest as the brunette stared back at the veela, who seemed to have registered nothing beyond the strident “yes!”</p><p>"My apologies for being such an undesirable part of this link,” Fleur replied stiffly, and took a step back, trying to remain dignified in the face of rejection. She was set on leaving the library as quickly as possible, but in less than a second, Fleur was stopped by arms around her waist. Hermione's forehead drooped down on her back.</p><p>"<em>I’m</em> the problem. Why would you want to be connected with <em>me</em>? You could have <em>anyone</em>. I’m just a know-it-all who likes to disappear into ancient archaeological sites, who prefers the solitude of a forest to anything more than a small group of people. I was looking for a way to release you from me." </p><p>There was a long moment of silence. Hermione remained leaning against Fleur, huddling against her back in fear of what she just revealed and the blonde’s response. She began to feel an enormous sense of melancholy and nervousness, sentiments that she could not quite identify as her own.</p><p>Her grip around Fleur came loose, and slowly Hermione let her arms fall to her sides. She was now distraught by the awkwardness induced by her candor, and slowly drowning in trepidation that this was it; the start to Fleur drifting away, their “marriage” be damned. </p><p>The blonde turned slowly, her lambent blue eyes wistfully studying the woman in front of her. Always so alive, so energetic and so unique, Hermione seemed to be looking now for a place to hide once Fleur said her piece. The room was so quiet that the French woman could swear she heard the fall of teardrops against the stone floor. Together with that came the sound of a tiny sob, which seemed to finally spur Fleur into action. She came even closer, brought both hands up to Hermione's cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the tears that flowed freely, and nudged the brunette softly to look at her.</p><p>"Oh, Hermione. You amazing, brilliant, beautiful...<em>fool</em>," She murmured just under her breath, though audibly clear to both. "How can you think I feel trapped in this bond, with you, of all people? Please don’t belittle yourself so, when all you are is magnificent." Fleur leaned their foreheads together. "Even with the outrageous circumstances, I can consider myself the luckiest person in the world." A hush descended after Fleur’s impassioned statements. Hermione absorbed the words as the blonde grew tense, standing ever so still, waiting with her eyes closed. Fleur was still immersed in her haze of melancholy, but within it, she sensed a sudden seed of hopefulness burst, and she finally felt like she could breathe again. </p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Back at the camp, Fleur explained what she had read on the Samodivi wooden tablets in the library. She described how this ritual had been going on for many centuries, and that the failure to continue the ritual must be what allowed what they had dubbed “wild magic” to percolate across the region and manifest. </p><p>They discussed the clan leaders, talking about the possibility that they were functioning in pairs as a kind of magical buffer, since the two witches already had the impression that the ritual was sustaining a barrier or a net that prevented a deluge of raw magic. They also conversed about the new details revealed by the journal-like entries on the tablets, and Fleur raised the hypothesis that they themselves should be experiencing a sort of transposal of feelings as well. Hermione agreed that they seemed to possess a new, heightened awareness of the other’s emotional state, but not to the degree where they could read each other’s thoughts. </p><p>Hermione was so ecstatic with the new discovery, that she - who had previously been sitting comfortably on one of the stools - took a lively celebratory leap that Fleur would have found amusing, if the veela's senses had not soared in alarm. The French woman felt an instantaneous stream of warning signals that initiated a cascade in her brain, pushing her to make a swift decision; all pointing to something being wrong with the Gryffindor.</p><p>A great sting of pain pulsed through Hermione’s injured leg, and she was sure that at least two of the stitches that Fleur had carefully placed had torn. The brunette felt her senses diminish, the surge of panic inundating her and obliterating the previous feelings of joy. Her wand was far away, the stool was <em>also</em> far away, and she found herself falling in slow motion. The brunette valiantly attempted to brace her other leg enough to recover her balance, but she was already beyond the point of no return. <em>Oh brilliant, I'll fall in front of Fleur yet again, like a clumsy oaf.</em></p><p>Fleur dashed forward quickly, wrapping her arms around Hermione’s waist and supporting her back. The pose they ended up freezing in could have easily been a photographic still from a Tango. When the fright in Hermione's eyes subsided and she became aware of the position she was in, the blonde just smiled widely.</p><p>“Looks like I'll be dipping <em>you</em> during our wedding dance,” The tone was playful and bold,  and Hermione pouted slightly. Even though she was put out at the declaration that Fleur would be the one to lead their dance, she did not miss the obvious reference when mentioning the all-important wedding tradition.</p><p>First issues first, however. "How are you so sure <em>you</em> will lead? I am a great dancer!" Hermione protested indignantly, as Fleur slowly righted them, stabilizing the brunette until she was back on her feet, fully trusting the veela's hands to steady her.</p><p>Fleur shrugged at the question and replied, grinning, "I'm holding you now, aren't I?" More than anything she wanted to giggle at Hermione's scowling expression. Briefly, her eyes wandered down to the brunette's lips. There was a moment when they both felt a flash of heat, but Fleur cleared her throat and took a step away. </p><p>"Let me see your leg again," She ordered, trying to ignore her heated cheeks, totally missing the fact that Hermione was equally flustered.</p><p>"Did you know that I was going to fall?" Curiosity took hold of the other witch, who had hobbled back to the stool, next to a kneeling Fleur working on mending her leg again.</p><p>"You will need a true medi-wizard at this rate," The blonde sighed, as she restored the two stitches that had burst. "You're going to have a scar. And about ‘knowing,’ I didn't <em>know</em> exactly. It was like an alarm was yelling at me to help you, like I knew you were in pain and possibly about to be hurt, and that I needed to do something.” Silence fell as they mulled over what just happened, and Hermione was so intrigued with the stress/danger alert Fleur described, thinking she was pretty sure she had heard of a concept like this before.</p><p>“Could be like a spidey-sense,” Hermione announced suddenly.</p><p>“A <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Spider-sense! It’s a superpower Spider-Man has! American comic hero? It’s like a precognitive ability to sense danger; a talent that allows him to be exceptionally aware of his surroundings.”</p><p>Fleur stared back at her blankly. “Right. We’re really going to need to get you up to speed with muggle popular culture,” Hermione muttered.</p><p>“No thank you,” Fleur said primly. “I’m quite certain I don’t need to know anything about any spider people,” She asserted.</p><p>“Yes, well, not just <em>entertainment</em> things. How to use a mobile phone, for one thing, or even learning to drive a car, just in case,” Hermione responded. “You’re married to a muggleborn now, you know. You ought to know a little more about the other world I’m from. It was practically delineated in our marriage contract,” Hermione told her smugly.</p><p>Fleur’s mouth opened and closed, as she looked back at Hermione, appalled. “It was <em>not</em>, actually!” She exclaimed indignantly. “It was not, which I <em>know</em>, because I helped you translate it!”</p><p>Hermione watched Fleur’s outburst with thinly veiled amusement, before schooling her expression.</p><p>“So you’re saying you’d really have no interest in learning about how I grew up, and how non-magical people get by?” She asked evenly, before deploying her most woeful puppy-dog eyes.</p><p>Fleur’s countenance widened in outrage once more. “Oh that- that is not fair! You are unfairly cute! I’d be a <em>monster</em> if I said no to that face!” She cried, an accusatory finger pointing back at Hermione.</p><p>“No, what’s <em>actually</em> unfair,” Hermione protested, with her hands on her hips, even while sitting on the stool, “Is that you can look attractive doing essentially <em>anything</em>! You look beautiful <em>wearing</em> anything, too!”</p><p>Fleur abruptly froze. “You…you think I’m beautiful?” She asked cautiously, as if Hermione had suddenly delivered new, divinely inspired knowledge.</p><p>“Yes!” Hermione practically shouted. “All the time, always! You pretty much take my breath away any time I see you!” Hermione declared, as if speaking to a particularly obtuse person.</p><p>“Wait a minute,” she said, frowning. “Wait, <em>that’s</em> what we’re going to focus on here?” Fleur was hardly listening now, and was instead meditating dreamily on what Hermione had just admitted. Hermione sighed and said seriously, “Fleur, the issue of whether or not I found-<em>find</em> you attractive, was hardly ever in question. We’re linked now to a degree we don’t even fully comprehend yet, and sorry, but teasing you seemed more healthy than running around, shouting in a panic. Or I guess, I'd be <em>wobbling</em> about,” she corrected ruefully.</p><p>Fleur grew solemn and replied, “Honestly, I really can’t picture you succumbing to mere hysterical panic, chérie. ...Perhaps you being a little bit of a klutz now and then,” she amended with a grin, “But I’m certain together we’ll discover all there is to know about our um, <em>unique</em> situation.” She moved herself closer until she was situated in front of Hermione and took her hand, linking their fingers. The two witches took a moment to bask in the pleasant current that twirled gaily between their bodies; the feeling was getting more and more addicting.</p><p>Their magic seemed to pulse in an alternating rhythm, a soothing susurrus in the back of their minds. Hermione would have thought that the perception of almost physically carrying a part of someone else in her body would be draining, but it was quite the opposite. She hoped Fleur was experiencing a similar phenomenon; she couldn’t stand the thought of being anything like a burden to Fleur.</p><p>And yet…despite Fleur’s assurance as of virtually a minute ago that she couldn’t imagine Hermione panicking, Hermione suddenly felt a tidal wave of insecurity rising. She began to feel her thoughts spiral, not unlike the first moment they’d discovered what they’d done. She tried to smother the dread from appearing on her face, not wishing to exacerbate the inconvenience she was certain this catastrophe must be to Fleur…</p><p>“Hermione.” Fleur brought her other hand to her face, cupping her cheek lightly. “I can sense that you’re flustered and anxious. I’m here, whatever is bothering you now we can handle it together.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I was trying to rein it back in, I don’t mean to upset you.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“I’m trying to stay calm, I’m aware that I’d be far more useful in helping you solve this while lucid.”</p><p>“I know – and before you keep apologizing, there’s something else I want to tell you.” Fleur took a deep breath and organized her thoughts for a few moments. </p><p>“So far we’ve learned that this group, Samodivi, are a kind of a veela predecessor. We know that they created this ritual to contain this wild magic, and that it was a bond akin to the veela mate bond. Since the village was also under attack by human mages, it also bolstered their security.</p><p>And thus they continued and trained people to assume this bond. But in the additional cases I reviewed, the people chosen for this ritual were mostly soul mates. I know we haven’t found a whole lot of solid documentation left in the village, so far, maybe there will be more once we have backup from the coven... but these tablets <em>did</em> give me some new insight. Between the soul mates, the connection instilled was stronger, and I believe that when the text said that ‘two souls become one,’ well, I think we can take that literally. That is the purest description of a veela mate-bond. And so all of this leads me to believe that we are soul mates." Fleur had disclosed the profound new details of their ever-changing reality without a single pause.</p><p>Hermione took a few minutes to process all of that. She started voicing her thoughts aloud, half to herself and half to Fleur. “So I understood that the spell your ancestors created was meant to mimic the veela bond. And we discovered that the result of ours was far more powerful than expected, as evidenced by the slew of effects we’ve been progressively encountering but...” She paused, shifting her gaze back to Fleur. “You really think it’s because I’m your soul mate?”</p><p>“Oui.”</p><p>“How are you certain? I <em>know </em>you explained to me what you’ve just found in the tablets. I mean we’re close friends, and the magic all but declared us compatible, but…” She hesitated. Hermione, despite her academic confidence, was reasonably emotionally insecure.</p><p>“I suppose my inner veela wasn’t as loud, since you already fulfilled that need. I’ve just failed spectacularly to connect the dots. You have been there for me as a mate, but I suppose we ignored a bit of the romantic parts,” Fleur considered slowly, one palm caressing Hermione’s cheek.</p><p>“So I’ve been pining after you, you’ve been pining after me, and it took unheard of, semi-accidental experimental spellcasting for us to realize it.” Hermione had always had some notion of the gravitation between the two of them for a long time, but how could/would she act on it? To risk a great friendship? After all they'd been through with the war, nothing seemed to make <em>more</em> sense than the universe marrying them both in an unprecedented spell-binding ritual.</p><p>“Hermione, if you think about it, we’d essentially been maintaining a long distance relationship. We just hadn’t been shagging<em>,</em>” Fleur said with a big grin, pleased with herself for throwing out a ‘Britishism.’ Hermione responded by slugging her in the shoulder.</p><p>“Well, I hadn’t been aware that I wasn’t the only one wishing for the <em>shagging</em> part!’” Hermione said with her cheeks flushed, delighting Fleur even more.</p><p>“Ah… So you <em>were</em> having dirty little thoughts about me, mademoiselle Granger. I’d happily start with the snogging though,” Fleur teased again, when Hermione wrinkled her nose cutely at the other slang term.</p><p>Despite the silliness, the brunette felt a surge of Gryffindor courage take over her being. She took a deep breath and with Fleur’s help she stood up safely. The front part of Hermione’s body brushed lightly against Fleur and the blonde swallowed. Hermione put her mouth against Fleur's ear, taking advantage of the fact that the blonde was a few inches taller. She murmured against the lobe, saying “I'm not ashamed of my thoughts,” daringly, and pretended not to hear Fleur inhale sharply. "If I knew they were reciprocated, they could have been much more than only <em>thoughts</em>, Fleur." Hermione brushed her lips enticingly just under the veela's ear.</p><p>Fleur felt a shiver travel down her spine, quickly becoming a fan of this new facet of Hermione. She knew that the Gryffindor had an inclination towards sarcasm, but having this flirtatious side was a nice novelty. The veela then tilted her head, her nose brushing against Hermione's cheek. She angled her head slowly until it lightly brushed against the Gryffindor's own nose. The blue eyes crinkled in an almost mischievous smile when she saw Hermione's pupils dilate. Then Fleur suddenly took a step back, putting some distance between the two.</p><p>The veela was smiling devilishly, and Fleur almost laughed out loud when she watched Hermione’s provocative behavior quickly become over-focused as though Fleur was a fascinating new book. Hermione stepped forward again and brought her hands up to the French woman’s cheeks. She looked at the blonde with a question in her eyes, to which the veela nodded impatiently. Together they leaned in. The air practically crackled with anticipation around the two women, and they smiled slightly at the feeling of nervousness.</p><p>There was a slight hesitation, since the moment was like experiencing a new, long-awaited chapter after an extended wait. Fleur felt like she was participating in a difficult tango where one of the most complicated moves would finally happen. For Hermione, the world had slowed almost to a stop, and all that remained was Fleur's face approaching her slowly, and more than ever she wanted to believe that despite the provocations and jokes, the veela really wanted her.</p><p>Their eyes closed and finally their lips touched and in that moment everything that the coven had already said about the first kiss of two soul mates made sense.</p><p>The first touch was chaste, timid and uncertain. Fleur sighed against Hermione's lips, pulled away, smiled and leaned in again. The second time they met was prolonged, their lips parting slightly, and Fleur moving to deepen the kiss.</p><p>Almost inevitably, Hermione had a passing thought of the endless love songs, the poems she always found emotionally exaggerated. In that first brush of lips, teeth and tongues, she knew that none of it was overkill. She finally felt like she was coming home after years of endless searching. Fleur was like being wrapped in the best kind of security blanket, warm, soft and perfect.</p><p>The hug that followed was tight, affectionate and expressed so many things without words. They had finally allowed themselves to meet, no longer risking a friendship but finally, finally, looking for what they really wanted.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>"Who would have thought that we would be married first and <em>then</em> we would kiss," Hermione observed, frowning at the tent’s ceiling. After fixing her wound, and their kiss, Fleur demanded she lay down, and Hermione demanded Fleur lay down with her. The veela was snuggled against her, with her head on Hermione's chest, while the younger witch ran a hand through the blonde's hair, shoulders and back. "We are doing everything out of order," the brunette said in dismay.</p><p>“It’s not a potions recipe, mon amour. It’s okay if we’ve gone about it a little out of order,” Fleur replied, stretching languidly and rubbing her nose against the base of Hermione's neck, smiling when she felt the shiver travel through the brunette's body.</p><p>“A <em>little </em>out of order?!” Hermione's indignation was almost hilarious, if it wasn't so apt given their circumstances. Fleur stifled the light laugh she wanted to let out. She was more concerned with informing the coven about performing an ancient ritual with semi-unknown consequences, and especially of her mother and her reaction, than actually having done things out of order with Hermione.</p><p>“Oui, all right, point taken. But you knew what I meant!”</p><p>Their conversation was interrupted with a peacock patronus drifting into their tent. The ethereal animal hovered by Fleur, and the blonde craned her neck to listen to the whispered message. She automatically leapt out of bed, startling Hermione and arresting her full attention.</p><p>"What’s happened?" The Gryffindor inquired, slowly sitting up. "Fleur?"</p><p>"My mother has summoned us to Paris as soon as possible." The two looked at each other for a long moment, temporarily at a loss for words. They had expected a response of course, but now that they were finally faced with the prospect of validating their actions, an atmosphere of foreboding descended once again.  </p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Apolline Delacour was, more or less, a patient woman; she knew she was an accomplished witch as well as an impeccable strategist. She was <em>also</em> aware of how much she enjoyed creating the most ridiculous pranks to provoke her daughters, causing them to flush with embarrassment. Despite her playful spirit, no one would truly take Apolline less than seriously, and both her daughters and Hermione knew this. </p><p>Fleur was mindful of the fact that a meeting of the coven was inevitable even before sending her letter, given what they had discovered in the Samodivi settlement. It would be, naturally, a serious event. Not that she didn't also consider her unexpected marriage to Hermione serious. The brunette meanwhile, was visibly nervous about this gathering, and Fleur also felt the stress linger in the bond they shared.</p><p>"You need to try to stay calm, mon coeur. She won't eat you alive, or hex you, I promise," Fleur reassured her, trying to emit a sense of tranquility that even she did not truly feel.</p><p>"Don’t forget that I can sense you too, and you’re just as worried as I am," Hermione replied, as she held Fleur's hand tightly.</p><p>After receiving the patronus, they eventually pulled themselves together enough to organize some gear for the trip to Paris, and secure the campsite for their (presumable) return with the veela team. Hermione had been running on auto-pilot, haunted by the fact that not only had she married Fleur without an introduction to the coven, or abiding by veela-mate protocol, but years ago Apolline asked if they were together. She had vehemently denied it, and now will look like a liar. By the time they arrived, Hermione was determined to steel herself and handle all potential awkwardness with grace. They had apparated in front of the great Maison Delacour, and Hermione obediently followed Fleur to the front porch of the house. Fortunately, the sudden appearance of Gabrielle helped her to relax somewhat.</p><p>“Really, sœur? Naturally <em>you</em> would have to find and marry your mate in the most dramatic manner possible, <em>and</em> require the attention of an international coalition of veela.” The Gryffindor laughed out loud at Fleur's petulant expression and Gabrielle's smug look. </p><p>"Hermione, it's always a pleasure to see you," The younger blonde continued cheerfully. Fleur opened her mouth to reply to her sister, but she was cut off. "This is Laura, my mate. Laura, this is Hermione, Fleur's <em>wife</em>." The provocative tone made the brunette beside the young veela chuckle.</p><p>"Nice to meet you." Laura was a beautiful young woman, Gabrielle's age, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Hermione accepted the proffered hand, and Laura reddened bashfully. They shook firmly, and Hermione tilted her head in confusion as she withdrew her hand. Fleur and Gabrielle continued to bicker in rapid French in the background. </p><p>“Sorry, I got a little starstruck,” the other brunette explained hastily. “You’re just kind of amazing. All of what you went through while at school, and Gabrielle told me about the Triwizard Tournament. And figuring out what to do about the horcruxes! I’m quite certain you’re essentially the reason Harry and Ronald are alive today.” Hermione blinked owlishly, mildly taken aback by the praise.</p><p>“Oh, well, thank you very much, that’s kind of you. I can’t lie and say that all of it was nothing, but I’m terribly grateful things turned out well,” she managed to reply evenly.</p><p>“And so is the rest of the wizarding world!”</p><p>“I guess you can take a girl out of the ‘Golden Trio,’ but not take the Golden Trio out of the girl? The problem always follows me,” Hermione said shyly, shrugging modestly. </p><p>“I know what you mean. I have my own problem-maker over there.” Both laughed as they turned to look at their mates, who had gone suspiciously quiet. Fleur and Gabby had apparently ceased their ridiculous verbal clash when they realized their mates were more interested in talking to each other than paying attention to them. The two blondes had been watching the exchange with crossed arms and narrowed gazes, eyes flickering from one brunette to the other. Evidently, truces were acceptable when a Delacour sister was not given their due consideration.   </p><p>“Like two cats, only given one (1) treat each,” Hermione snarked. Predictably, the two quarter-veela puffed up in outrage.</p><p>“Excusez-moi!” rang out almost simultaneously. Each brunette took hold of their respective blonde’s arm, leading them towards the house.</p><p>“Only teasing,” Laura said soothingly.</p><p>“Yes you two, don’t get your feathers all ruffled now,” Hermione added gravely, keeping her eyes straight ahead to their destination.  </p><p>“Feathers?! Quoi, pourquoi how dare - !” Fleur sputtered, while still being guided along.</p><p>“I take back what I said about being happy to see you, Hermione,” Gabrielle huffed sullenly.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Apolline greeted them as soon as they had been escorted to the manor proper by Gabrielle and her mate. She remained looking outwardly calm, since she could detect the apprehension in both her daughter and her new wife, even with no magical ability.</p><p>They walked into the foyer in silence, until she told them, “I’ll let you two put your things away, and meet you in the kitchen.” Apolline did not wait for a response, and upon reaching the kitchen, busied herself by preparing a kettle. When the two witches appeared, the half-veela had prepared an afternoon tea spread, and was waiting patiently at the table, browsing the French wizarding newspaper. Fleur and Hermione sat next to each wordlessly. Apolline put down the paper and set it aside.</p><p>“Your grandmother is here by the way, my daughter.” Fleur winced. Apolline continued, “I’ve notified the coven, and we will begin preparations to convene as soon as I get a bit more information from the both of you. Fleur, your letter was a bit of a mess.” The veela mother opened her mouth to resume laying out the situation, but her daughter interrupted.</p><p>“We’re mates!” The younger blonde announced impulsively. “I realized it after I sent the letter, uh, explaining what happened.” Hermione put a reassuring hand on Fleur’s thigh under the table, concealing a grimace. Her wife apparently had no capacity for delicately conveying important news. Or at the least, her default panic action was obviously blurting out the truth. Apolline blinked.</p><p>“Well, that’s not especially surprising,” she pointed out casually. “But please allow me to summarize what I <em>did</em> infer from your rambling message. Your thought process and actions went as follows:</p><p>-You discover a binding ritual</p><p>-There was raw magic present</p><p>-The ritual constrains the magic tear</p><p>-Ritual is then conducted</p><p>-Puzzlement, because your ring fingers are oddly marked</p><p>-Panic, because your ring fingers are marked in a manner similar to that of <em>wedding</em> rings</p><p>-Instant Marriage</p><p>-...Something has gone wrong for sure.”</p><p> Apolline paused for effect, and then said “That is about the gist of it, oui?”</p><p>Fleur looked miserable as she replied, “Oui, maman.”</p><p>"I just want to establish that we did not bind ourselves indiscriminately. We thought that this ritual would only stabilize the uncontained magic that was drawing so much attention to the archaeological site, that we would connect in the same manner the Samodivi had for protection. Our intention was to stabilize and protect a lost part of our clan's history, and oui, I am well aware of the proverb regarding ‘good intentions.’</p><p>I know that you are not satisfied, maman, but we were doing everything we could with the situation we were dealt, " Fleur elaborated seriously, and Hermione moved her hand to entwine with Fleur’s, which allowed her to relax somewhat.</p><p>"Entirely the opposite, ma fille, I am <em>quite</em> satisfied with your new wife," with that parting statement, Apolline stood gracefully and started to move out of the kitchen. "I have set up a space in the parlor. Eat something, and I’ll send another patronus when the coven begins to arrive." Apolline winked at Hermione, and smirked when the young woman went completely red.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p>           </p><p>“We should sneak out,” Fleur whispered suddenly. They had been listening to the veela assembly for the better part of an hour. Hermione had presented their discoveries to the elders, with an occasional interjection from Fleur, followed by a Q&amp;A for another twenty minutes. She’d explained to them precisely what they revealed to the Bulgarian ministry, and what they’d kept confidential, which included the veela/Samodivi magic and what they comprehended of it thus far. They’d been sitting together quietly while the congregation discussed logistics for expanding the excavation. The blonde witch had been playing with one of Hermione’s hands, while intermittently sending her heated looks, and Hermione was well-aware Fleur had been paying zero attention to the conference for the last fifteen minutes.</p><p>“What? Of course we can’t do that! Not to mention it’s impossible for us to abscond without being seen,” Hermione hissed back.</p><p>“Fine. Instead I will simply ask for us to be excused, since our contribution to the meeting has been completed, and now I would like to spend time with my wife,” Fleur declared quietly.</p><p>“Fleur! We can’t slink off early just for sex!” Hermione replied, scandalized.</p><p>“It’s not as if they couldn’t recognize what we’d be up to if they see us leave now, or in another half hour,” Fleur reasoned softly.</p><p>“There’s still a difference between them <em>assuming</em> what we’d be doing based on what happily bonded mates are inclined to do anyway, versus you unexpectedly disrupting the meeting to <em>announce</em> that you’re off to go ravish your wife now, just to clear up any confusion as to whether this will be happening sooner rather than later,” Hermione proclaimed. Fleur blinked back at her.</p><p>“Well, I certainly see that they are different scenarios, but I don’t really understand the problem,” the blonde stated blandly. Hermione buried her face in her hands despairingly. Fleur pulled her closer by the shoulders, stifling her giggle into the brunette’s neck.</p><p>“All right, mon amour, I solemnly swear I shall be good,” Fleur assured her gently, her eyes sparkling.</p><p>“Thank you,” Hermione mumbled. She lifted her head and whispered, “And anyway, how could you forget that we’re the impetus for this meeting? We asked Apolline to marshal the clan leaders because we uncovered previously unheard of veela magic, and then blithely cast it on ourselves! If there was ever a more imperative moment for us to behave, it is sitting attentively right here, in the parlor of your family home, with a room full of highly respected veela, while your mother stares all-too-perceptively in our direction,” Hermione rattled off. Fleur shot a peek at her mother, who was in fact watching them intently.</p><p>“What with the strength of our bond, perhaps she’s already half-expecting you to get me pregnant with those fiery glances you’ve been tossing my way,” Hermione spoke under her breath. Fleur said nothing, but the smirk in place revealed all she would’ve expressed aloud.  </p><p>“Nope. Not going there right now,” Hermione shook her head as if to clear it, crossed her arms and legs, and focused her gaze resolutely forward. She was rescued when soon thereafter, her opinion was requested on how the digging was to be attempted, and the brunette was quick to present the plan she had determined for herself at the beginning of it all. It simply expanded the steps to be taken and incorporated a bigger team with a bigger array of specialties. Hermione was excited at the promise of having a crew on what could often be isolating work when out in the field, and on such a marvelous, enigmatic part of magical history.</p><p>The elders began to actively discuss which group would provide which specialty or vocation, staff or any other resource they wanted. By now, Hermione was grateful that one of the medi-witches present had checked her leg and finally was able to close the wound with magic, since being seated for as long as she was probably would exacerbate the pain and aches. Eventually, this led into a conversation about the tear, which of course was positioned in a place of historical and magical significance. </p><p>Now that they knew the occurrences of magical events had been stemmed by the implementation of the bond ritual, they could investigate the environment more thoroughly to see what could have sparked such an intense outlet for wild magical energy. There were definitely different ways to harness magic, and Hermione for one was especially eager to delve into the method in which the Samodivi personally wrangled such potential. It was an intersection of arcane, divine (whether from specific goddesses or abstract forces and philosophies), and possibly psychic magic on the part of the Samodivi, who were themselves magical creatures. She suddenly realized Fleur had been watching her participate in the conversation with a dopey smile, undoubtedly having sensed her academic excitement and found it endearing. </p><p>With all the time they had already invested in the meeting, fleeing with Fleur suddenly didn’t sound like too bad an idea after all. But her sense of duty held out, and they waited until the gathering had finally come to a close, though Fleur was immediately thinking of fading into the clusters of departing veela. Slowly, as if evading a dangerous predator (which was not entirely an inapposite a description given the veela nature), the blonde led Hermione out of the parlor, merging with the others. The French woman could almost feel her mother’s stare like a homing laser burning a trail on the back of her neck, and when they finally reached the outside of the meeting area, Fleur started practically dragging the Gryffindor away.</p><p>"Where are we going?" The brunette asked, half amused, half bewildered by the rush.</p><p>"Downstairs. We can't go to my room, or really any room on this floor. Maman will track us like an animal smelling blood from newly wounded prey if we loiter here. If nothing else, we can steal a moment of peace without her starting another interrogation," Fleur spoke in a rush. She pulled Hermione down the stairs, trying to exploit the natural cover of various pieces of furniture, since the number of veela were thinning out. She also did not want any visitors to point her mother in their direction. </p><p>“Uh, that’s a rather vivid description,” Hermione commented, regarding the depiction of Apolline. Fleur had quickly dismissed the idea of going into the coat closet, not only for the irony, but since it was also an obvious hiding place. She steered them back to the kitchen, where she had two options; to go outside - which would make Apolline follow them onto the extensive but open gardens, or go into the pantry. She had never tried to hide there as a child, and it might provide a chance to double back through the rest of the house to a jump-off point, where they could hopefully finally lose her mother. </p><p>Fleur yanked the door open and wrenched Hermione and herself inside, closing the door as quietly as possible. Several moments passed where they waited with bated breath. Just when the two witches thought they were in the clear, the door opened casually and Apolline strolled in. She shut the door gently behind her, and flicked a switch, giving each young woman a contemplative once-over in the dim light cast by the single bulb.</p><p>“I wanted to speak with the both of you. How fortuitous that we all ran into each other right <em>here</em>,” The veela mother said pleasantly. </p><p>“We just wanted to get a snack,” Fleur started.</p><p>“Yes yes, you were wanting to run off and have sex, I understand. I just wanted to ask a few questions, before you two undoubtedly disappear for days ‘getting snacks.’ And I must say, for being two exceptionally brilliant witches, I have no idea why you thought you could hide from me in my own house. And yet here I am, chasing you into my own pantry.”</p><p>Hermione is now sporting a spectacular blush, while Fleur has buried her face in her hands, huddled behind Hermione, hoping that maybe if she can’t see anything, it’ll purge the confrontation that’s happening from reality. Apolline continues speaking with ebullience. </p><p>“There are important things to consider. When will the official wedding event be? Will it coincide with your sister’s? Have you both thought of moving in together? Which apartment will you move to? Will you have two places of residence, one in London and one in Paris?  And grandchildren? I need grandchildren, you know.” Any sort of naughty thought they could have entertained previously was completely eradicated with each rapid question. There was no room for anything else but the frantic, visceral urge to <em>RUN.</em></p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Anastasie Delacour was a full veela, and she could sense the extraordinary. She saw without a doubt the amusement twinkling in her daughter's eyes at the news that Hermione Granger was now a companion to the clan's heiress. And most of all, she saw Fleur's joy upon entering with Hermione into the parlor. Fleur was bright-eyed and cheerful, and she looked on with affection and devotion to her new wife. Anastasie also observed the deep feelings between the two women, and she knew indubitably that they would have ended up together, no matter how long it took.</p><p>For the oldest of the Delacour veela, (not that she looked her age, thank you very much) Anastasie viewed the ritual that her granddaughter and her now wife had performed as a blessing in disguise. Familiar with the two, she had anticipated a dance around each other for perhaps a few more years before either of them mustered the courage to take any action. And it had been getting taxing to watch. </p><p>The elder veela followed her daughter at a safe distance into the kitchen, and spied her slipping into the pantry. Anastasie rolled her eyes, knowing that Apolline would never leave Fleur alone too long to enjoy her new spouse. So she, as the leader of the household, did what she was supposed to do. She prepared more tea.</p><p>When Apolline emerged from the pantry with a terribly satisfied expression, she paused momentarily when she came face to face with her mother. The older woman raised an inquiring eyebrow, and Apolline shrugged nonchalantly, which made Anastasie chuckle softly and shake her head in disbelief. Apolline was incorrigible. Her daughter sauntered off as if she had accomplished the most delightful and engaging activity of the past few days. It didn't take long for her granddaughter and wife to pop up out of hiding. Both froze like deer in headlights when they noticed the elegant veela sitting on a high bench enjoying a good cup of tea.</p><p>"I'm glad you two survived my daughter’s antics relatively unscathed. Sit down, and have some tea." The younger witches didn't even entertain the thought of refusing or fleeing, and just nodded tersely, Hermione preparing a cup for Fleur and herself. The two were awkwardly taciturn, looking at their hands or anywhere but Anastasie.</p><p>"Come on now, I'm not as scary as Apolline. If I remember correctly, I was the person covering your nightly escapes as a teenager, ma petite fille." Fleur laughed lightly and relaxed somewhat, taking a small sip of tea.</p><p>"Oui, you were always the best, grand-mère," Fleur spoke shyly.</p><p>"Grandmothers are here for that, aren't they?" She smiled at the two young women in front of her. "Now, I know you two have been overwhelmed with the complications of the ritual happening, the coven meeting, your nosy mother, all of that. But I am elated with the end of the story, for Hermione will be an excellent mate, Fleur, so try to act accordingly." She took another small sip of tea and beamed at the two self-conscious women. "I’ve watched you gravitating to each other for a while. And look how wonderful, now you can learn all about the veela culture as you always wanted, Hermione." The Gryffindor blushed strongly.</p><p>"I know I was persistent, and I'm grateful that I wasn't hexed."</p><p>"Oh, silly, I wasn't going to hex you. I could see for a long time that you would be my granddaughter's mate. It was only a matter of time. Honestly, I found your curiosity charming. Besides, we should be thankful for your curiosity, oui? Without it we wouldn't be here. I am glad of this union, so you have my blessing, not that you need it." Both Fleur and Hermione felt extremely gratified and fortunate with Anastasie's approval, especially considering that the matriarch was rather faithful to the veela roots. They talked for a long time until it grew late, and weariness began to permeate in the young women. Anastasie said that they would have a day or two to prepare for the return to the site, and with a smirk, also recommended that Fleur take a longer vacation to be able to participate in the entire excavation.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, mum.” Hermione was once again seated in her library, this time on the phone, with the added bonus of a certain veela snuggled into her side. Their new calico kitten was making sure her new humans were adequately marked with head butts and nuzzling. </p><p>“Hi darling, it’s good to hear from you. How are you doing?” Fleur was pressed close enough to hear Mrs. Granger’s voice on the other end of the line.</p><p>“I’m doing well…um, wonderful, in fact. I had two big work assignments back to back, but they went <em>relatively</em> smoothly. You and dad are all right?” The blonde had to snort lightly at the word “smoothly,” and Hermione batted her softly on the hip.</p><p>“Oh yes, love. The practice is running fine, we’ve got a new hygienist and she’s lovely. And you know everyone already adores Nigel at the front desk. The neighbors have a new dog that seems to love rolling around in your father’s African violets; it’s been driving him mad. But that said, I’d wager we’re probably overdue for a visit you know,” her mother said, not so subtly.</p><p>“Yeah of course mum. There’s someone you need to meet anyhow; she’s amazing and stunning and brilliant and uh, my….wife.” There's a lengthy pause on the other end of the line.</p><p>“Sorry darling, but you did say ‘<em>wife</em>,’ yes?”</p><p>“Yes mum, I did.”</p><p>“Now as far as we’re aware, you didn’t have a wartime marriage at 18, and forget to notify us, for one thing,” Mrs. Granger continued.</p><p>“No mum, I did not,” Hermione affirmed obediently.</p><p>“So, is this a shotgun wedding? I mean, since you have magical abilities and whathaveyou –”</p><p>“<em>No</em> mother, no one is pregnant,” Hermione interrupted.</p><p>“<em>Yet</em>,” Fleur chimed in helpfully, just out of earshot, and got smack to her rear.</p><p>“Or one of those, what do the yanks call them, Vegas weddings? Did you get married while sozzled, Hermione Jean Granger?” Her mother asked gravely.</p><p>“No!” Hermione finally burst out. Fleur was quivering with repressed laughter against her side. “No, a close friend of mine assisted me while I was working at a magical archeological site. We were camped out in the Rhodope Mountains in Bulgaria, while excavating the area. She also helped me translate some historical documents, and one of them happened to be a previously unheard of enchantment, even within the magical community we were working in. We translated it, and analyzed the unique spell components. But there were additional, <em>mitigating factors </em>that contributed while we were parsing the spell, and we ended up magically bound and officially married within my colleague- my now <em>wife’s</em> culture.” Hermione’s speech grew faster towards the end of the explanation, and she exhaled roughly once she was finished. Silence on the line lingered again.</p><p>“So it <em>was</em> a Vegas wedding. Like going for a swift half and then there are you are, blitzed and married, with a whole lot of trees as your witnesses… At least the trees wouldn’t judge your shirtless drunk dancing on the tables,” Mrs. Granger added as an afterthought.</p><p>“You’re uh, being awfully level-headed about this, mum,” Hermione said cautiously. Mrs. Granger paused for a moment to rally her thoughts.</p><p>“I suppose over the years we’ve sort of come to <em>expect</em> the bizarre and phenomenal when it comes to you. Each year you returned from that castle there came a new outlandish tale. I know your father and I did not raise an idiot, despite us barely comprehending this second world of which you are a part. We couldn’t possibly throw in the towel now and lose our only child because the latest adventure she’s had was apparently getting married.” Hermione suddenly wished she could hug her mother through the phone.</p><p>“Uhm, thank you mum. I’m happy to know I won’t be disowned. I’ll be heading back to the site in Bulgaria in a few days, but I’ll call again to arrange a time to visit. And…you’ll meet Fleur.”</p><p>“We’ll look forward to it, darling,” her mother replied warmly. “Talk to you soon.”</p><p>Hermione ended the call, feeling a little emotional. The two women sat in the comfortable silence for a while, watching their kitten, Morgana, cavort around. Hermione still had her cheeks flushed from the partly awkward, partly reassuring conversation with her mother. Fleur was amused that Mrs. Granger had handled it all so well, as she really hadn't quite known what to expect, and simply allowed her wife some time to collect herself.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p>Fleur was split between being amused by the entire conversation with Mrs. Granger, and shamelessly ogling her wife. Hermione, on the other hand, had a flashback to her mother’s suggestion of the Vegas-style wedding, and her over-stimulated brain went straight to the after-marriage <em>activities</em>. Both looked at each other for a long time, until the veela gave her a silly grin, alleviating the embarrassment Hermione was feeling. The Gryffindor just felt this vast amount of happiness coursing through her body. Fleur winked provocatively and the brunette was confused by the action, but the blonde gave no verbal answer, she just reclined and merged their lips together in a light and emotional kiss. The two just relished the feel of each other for several delightful minutes, when Fleur backed away with a smile and eyes shining with joy.</p><p>"Je t'aime." Hermione's eyes widened. "You do?" She asked, as if this statement was somehow news. Fleur just smiled with a slight shake of her head, and kissed her again. Hermione disconnected her lips and hugged Fleur tightly.</p><p>"I love you too," the Gryffindor responded with unrestrained joy. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it properly earlier, but I suppose I got used to suppressing the words because I was sure you didn’t feel the same.” With her hands on Fleur's cheeks she pulled the blonde into a series of short kisses, which made the blonde feel rather giddy. "I love you so much!" Fleur beamed at the repeated declaration. Her world finally fit together, all was in the right place. And <em>her</em> place was here in Hermione’s arms.</p><p>Hermione tugged Fleur up from the sofa, pulling lightly at her arm, as she guided them through her flat with a look of promise. Fleur gave her a crooked grin, happily trailing after Hermione with barely a thought to her surroundings.</p><p>Hermione stopped them by the side of her bed, tugging on Fleur’s belt loops until they were both standing on the fluffy rug that bordered both sides of her bed. She flicked on the switch of the dim lamp on her nightstand, and gently pulled Fleur down to her mouth again. She kissed her slowly and deeply, savoring all Fleur had to offer with her lips and tongue. After several moments, she pulled away, drawing a whine of displeasure from the blonde. Hermione leaned their foreheads together, their breathing heavy but in sync, sharing each other’s air. Their bodies seemed to thrum as their intense magical connection reverberated between them.</p><p>“Is this still okay? We could just sleep; I’d like to think we have all the time in the world now,” Hermione asked gently.</p><p>Fleur gave her question truthful consideration. She replied after a moment of observing Hermione meditatively. “Non. I’d <em>thought </em>I had all the time in the world to find you, and you were right under my nose. I would have been waiting forever,” she said wistfully. “Emmène-moi au lit, Hermione.” </p><p>The brunette’s heart swells as she looks up at her wife. Fleur gazes back with lambent eyes, shining with tenderness, and leans in again, their lips meeting with fervor. Hermione eventually breaks the kiss and backs away slightly. She lifts an index finger, which Fleur’s eyes follow obediently, and begins to trace the skin down from Fleur’s clavicle, along her sternum, and pausing at the point where her blouse was fastened. She shot a mischievous glance up at the blonde, and then continued to trail her finger down the length of the overlapped fabric that kept the shirt together, all the way to Fleur’s waistband. Buttons obligingly removed themselves, falling soundlessly to the carpet, as Fleur’s blouse fluttered open.</p><p>She blinked. “That’s uh, a neat trick. You had better fix that later,” Any further protest was smothered by Hermione’s mouth. She placed her hands on Fleur’s shoulders under her shirt, trailing her hands down Fleur’s arms and sliding the garment down and off the other witch.</p><p>She bent her head slightly, planting sweet kisses up Fleur’s chest until she reached her neck. Fleur tilted her head to the side eagerly, Hermione obligingly exploring the expanse of velvety skin. She nuzzled her nose against her neck, indulging in the blonde’s comforting scent. The brunette let a hand wander down Fleur’s ribs, ghosting a caress down her stomach, and then dipping into the waistband of her trousers. Hermione swept her fingers tantalizingly close to Fleur’s center, feeling her body shudder against her hand.</p><p>Meanwhile, she scattered more open-mouth kisses up the blonde’s neck, nibbling at her ear lobe and relishing the shiver it elicited. Fleur let out a soft moan as the brunette marked her at her pulse point, her hands pawing at Hermione’s shirt. She divested Fleur of her bra before allowing the other witch to pull off her own shirt and bra. Before Fleur could pull them together again, Hermione undid the buttons of Fleur’s pants, lowering herself to the floor as she worked the fabric down gorgeous legs. Fleur balanced herself with a hand on Hermione’s shoulder as she stepped out of the pants and kicked them away. Hermione knelt before her, marveling at the beautiful woman before her.</p><p>She placed her hands on Fleur’s hips, toying with the hem of her underwear, looking up at the French woman for confirmation before guiding the lingerie down her legs as well. She leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss where her thigh met her hip. The scent of her arousal was making her giddy with want. Hermione doubted she’d get her fill of looking. Her gaze grew more ravenous, as if Fleur was a sumptuous meal that had been denied her for days. But Fleur was growing restless, and pulled the other witch to her feet.</p><p>“No, I want to take my time,” Hermione murmured. “We’re in my flat, I get to make the rules,” she said teasingly. She kissed her wife again passionately. “Let me take care of you, Fleur,” she whispered into her mouth. The blonde felt herself just about melt. She pulled back a little and watched Hermione with half-lidded eyes, and there was so much intent burning in the brunette’s gaze that Fleur feels her whole body flush with heat. How could this woman disarm her so readily with just a glance? Hermione looks at her with such reverence and love and Fleur has had enough of being patient.</p><p>Hermione suddenly finds herself straddling the blonde on her bed, clutching at her shoulders in an effort to regain her balance. She looked down at Fleur with a smirk.</p><p>“What did I just say about my rules?” she asked playfully.</p><p>“Je m'en fiche,” Fleur muttered, before capturing her lips. The blonde grips Hermione’s side with one hand, while banishing her trousers and underwear with a quick sweep of wandless magic. She ignores the brunette’s startled yelp of surprise, trailing her hands along Hermione’s thighs, and palms her backside, grinning at the squeak she draws out next. The brunette retaliated by scraping her teeth across her neck, leaving a new mark, and Fleur hisses.</p><p>The French woman decides it’s her turn to bite along the column of Hermione’s neck, one hand reaching up to cup and squeeze a breast. She adores the little sounds her wife is making, sighs and whimpers as she nips at her collarbones, then taking a pert nipple in her mouth. Hermione arches her body into Fleur, hands at once scrabbling at her shoulders then tangling into silvery-blonde locks. Fleur trails fingers enticingly along the inside of the brunette’s thighs, as her mouth continues to lavish attention on her breasts.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>,” Hermione mutters thickly.</p><p>The blonde smoothed one hand up Hermione’s chest between her breasts, pressing her lips where she felt the other witch’s heart thrumming, and when Fleur finally brushed her hand through the slickness between her legs, Hermione felt the blonde’s breath hitch.</p><p>“All for you,” the brunette murmured in Fleur’s ear, biting lightly at the lobe again. The words induce an exhilarating rush that consumes her, so she kisses her wife breathless again, as she drags her fingers up and down, exploring the wet folds and tracing circles against her clit. Hermione rolls her hips into the press of Fleur’s fingers, and tears her mouth away with a choked moan.</p><p>“Does that feel good, mon amour?” Fleur asks with a low, breathy intensity.</p><p>“Unmpf,” Hermione replied intelligently, teeth bearing down on her bottom lip.</p><p>“I’m honored to have rendered the articulate Miss Granger speechless,” Fleur goaded her lightly, her vivid blue eyes positively glittering with illicit amusement.</p><p>“SShhut Upmore,” </p><p>“As my lady wishes,” Fleur whispered gallantly, feeling her own arousal spike with the brunette’s pleasure. She slips her fingers inside and starts using deep, firm strokes, peppering kisses against Hermione’s neck as her eyes flutter shut and her head falls forward.</p><p>“F-fuck,” she groans. There is something deeply satisfying about making Hermione curse. Perhaps it is simply because the brunette is often so eloquent and typically sophisticated in her speech. Whatever it is, her voice is muted and husky and it sends a spark through Fleur’s veins. She increases her pace and presses her palm up so Hermione can grind against her. The brunette could feel the pressure building at the base of her spine; her thighs were beginning to ache, but she didn’t <em>care</em> because Fleur was hitting <em>that</em> spot and whispering how much she loved her and how utterly gorgeous she was like this, completely lost in pleasure.</p><p><em>“Fleur,</em>” she utters in a soft mewl, her chest heaving, breaths short and shallow. The blonde holds her closely, and presses their foreheads together, swallowing her exhales.</p><p>“I’ve got you. Come for me, mon cœur,” Fleur crooned. Nails clench against her shoulders as Hermione stiffens. She looks at Fleur for the briefest moment with hazy blown eyes, and then her body shatters against her touch. She cries out and bucks, strong hands grasping at blonde hair, her arms, but Fleur keeps her steady and bites down at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She carries her through the orgasm, teasing out the pleasure that the mating bite amplified until Hermione’s trembling slowed and she slumped boneless against her wife.   </p><p>Fleur shifts them so Hermione can lie comfortably along the length of her bed, and the blonde settles herself so she’s nestled in the space between her legs. She enjoys the feeling of their skin connecting as their chests touch. The French woman doesn’t bother to disguise the primal gratification she feels from looking at her mate blissed out, wild brown curls framing her as she’s lazing back against some pillows. Fleur occupies herself by claiming every inch of skin within her reach with light kisses, and licking softly at the bond mark.</p><p>After a while, Hermione swats weakly at Fleur’s shoulder, pulling her attention back so they’re face to face, the blonde hovering over her wife with a smirk.</p><p>“That was nice,” she said idly. She was happily basking in her afterglow, but Fleur’s desire rippled through their bond, pulsing like a live wire urging her to take her wife.</p><p>“<em>Nice</em>, hmm?” Fleur repeats mischievously. </p><p>“Sorry, I expect my brain will restart at any moment now,” and as if it did exactly that, Hermione opens her eyes and pouts a little, saying “My turn now. It was my turn <em>before,</em> and then you got me all…all discombobulated!” She sputters indignantly.</p><p>“If you can still say ‘discombobulated,’ then perhaps I did not discombobulate you thoroughly enough,” Fleur remarks judiciously. In a surprise maneuver, Hermione flips them and quells any other commentary from Fleur with a deep kiss. She eventually made her way down Fleur’s body, worshipping her chest, and marking the blonde again at the underside of her breast. She paid special attention to her nipples, nipping at both and then soothing them with her tongue.</p><p>She kissed down the toned stomach, taking the time to leave additional marks on her sensitive inner thighs, raking her nails over her hip, and smiling against the skin when Fleur finally burst out, “Hermione! For the love of all that’s holy…” Her aggravated cry quickly descended into a low moan when Hermione slowly trailed her tongue up the length of her core. She laved her folds with careful attention, committed to finding all spots that drove Fleur wild. She precisely catalogued when to use light, teasing touches, and when to press harder against her lover. Hermione Granger was nothing if not thorough.</p><p>The blonde peeled her eyes open with effort, seeing her mate’s head between her legs, indulging and bewitching her, intent on making her feel amazing.</p><p>“Fleur…” Hermione called, lips still moving against her. “I love the way you taste,”</p><p>Fleur responded with a deep moan, her hips jerking helplessly against Hermione’s mouth. One of her hands clenched a fistful of sheets, the other clutching desperately at the younger witch’s hair. Her eyes were squeezed shut again, mouth emitting heavy breaths and whimpers, her body writhing with Hermione’s ministrations. All she could do was <em>feel</em>, the tightening coil of heat in her gut, her heart threatening to hammer out of her ribs, Hermione’s warm breath and touches as she brought her higher and higher.</p><p>The brunette cradled Fleur’s right leg over her shoulder, and shifted her weight so she could enter the French woman with two fingers, pumping them gently and reaching for that ribbed patch of flesh with each methodical stroke. She shifted her efforts to alternating between sucking and licking at Fleur’s clit, the other witch’s hips bucking in tune with her fingers’ thrusts. Hermione watched the blissful flow of expressions play out on Fleur’s face, certain that she’d never tire of drawing them out from her mate. She was starting to feel her wet heat clench at her fingers, and intensified her movements.</p><p>Fleur’s back arched off the bed, she released a final, hoarse cry, and surrendered to ecstasy with a long, drawn out moan. She could only let go, ride the wave and allow her body to shudder, as stars exploded behind her eyelids, sweeping away her capacity for speech and movement. Hermione grasped her lightly as she drew out the pleasure for as long as Fleur was able to stand. </p><p>She eventually groped blindly for Hermione, who willingly moved up her body, settled half on top of the blonde, and nuzzled the side of her neck. “I love you,” she murmured. “I can’t believe I get to keep you.”</p><p>Fleur was still addled, coming down from her high and basking in the adoration she could sense from Hermione via their bond. Finally, “Je t’aime aussi,” she proclaimed wholeheartedly, her mind scrambling to articulate just how much she loved Hermione in return, and how grateful she was to the universe at large for giving her this woman. Nothing felt sufficient, so she just squeezed her wife nestled in her grip, kissing her forehead.</p><p>Fleur opened her eyes, squinting at Hermione as a thought occurred to her. “I’m mildly alarmed at the havoc you could wreak by being such a quick study.”</p><p>“I do think giving you orgasms is my new favorite thing,” Hermione said agreeably. “You’re perfect,” she decided firmly.</p><p>“Nobody is perfect,” Fleur responded sleepily.</p><p>“Pretty sure you are.”</p><p>“We’ll agree to disagree,” the blonde mumbled, drifting off. Hermione grinned, settled herself closer, and soon enough, followed Fleur into sleep.</p><p> </p><p>*************</p><p> </p><p>The next morning arrived all too quickly. The two newlyweds prepared to return to the Samodivi settlement and continue their investigation. The coven would send its own researchers to speed up the process, and they too agreed to allow Hermione, who was now part of the coven, to lead the investigation. Viktor had been notified of the sudden changes, and made arrangements with the Bulgarian ministry accordingly. </p><p>The French woman guided Hermione to the library once more, so that they could resume what Fleur had begun in translating some of the historical wooden tablets. Hermione had paused to repair everything she had remotely destroyed during her attempt at reaching the second level of the library. The two settled into the study area with tables and chairs, and Hermione glanced over at the paintings with the paired Samodivi connected through the ritual. The brunette started chuckling to herself, and then began to laugh harder when the French woman looked over at her, baffled.</p><p>"What is it? What's so funny?"</p><p>
  <em>"So should I wear a wedding dress for our first date?”</em>
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  <strong>THE END?</strong>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all that read till here! We are needy, so please review! We create this 12,5K chapter for you, give us love!<br/>(in a parallel topic: Dino have many names, but she is the co-author with me and my amazing beta.)<br/>(Also, sometimes when you ask you can get...)~~Mih</p><p>We've left it a little open-ended, so we may go ahead and write more for these two derps in this universe if there's enough interest. Thanks for reading this far, we appreciate it :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some magic inspired by Pathfinder and D&amp;D ;D<br/>I hope you all enjoy this as much I did writing, please allow us to have you kudos and reviews! ~Mih<br/>Thanks for any kudos and reviews, hope everyone enjoys/enjoyed the experiment -dinobats</p></blockquote></div></div>
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